


i can't not love you

by raekentheory



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, Stuggling musician Theo, Teacher Liam, Wedding Planning, Weddings, What's Your Number Reference, idk how do i tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 04:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 48,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raekentheory/pseuds/raekentheory
Summary: Liam's a little lost in life. His latest relationship has fizzled out, his best friends are about to be married, and he’s rapidly realizing he doesn’t want to be the best man without a date. So, inspired by their tale of rekindled romance, he decides to track down all his exes and figure out which one was right for him all along. The problem is that several have been out of contact for years, and he has no idea where they are. The solution? His promiscuous, struggling musician neighbor Theo, who happens to have dabbled in the police academy long enough to be good at digging up dirt and finding people. But time is running out, the wedding countdown clock ticking ever closer, and if Theo can stop flirting with him for maybe five seconds and find his former flames, he might have a shot at this. || What’s Your Number AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ithinkwehaveanemergency](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithinkwehaveanemergency/gifts).



> Written as part of the **Thiam Big Bang 2018**! And for Adri, who has been waiting for this fic for ages, and is absolutely it's #1 fan.
> 
> So I'm going to start by saying thank you to my absolute life saver and the best beta ever, without whom this endeavor quite literally wouldn't have been possible: [Alli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allidon/pseuds/allidon). Thank you so SO much ❤ I love you!
> 
> And thank you to [Kari](https://18-sweet-poisoned-heart.tumblr.com/), who's been an absolute dear to work with, even though I've dropped off the face of the earth several times and I'm the worst at answering messages in a timely fashion, who made me a lovely piece to go with this fic. ❤
> 
> And finally, to you guys, who are reading this. Holy crap, this has been a wild ride up until the very last second. My unintentional monster that started out as an idea so long ago, and that finally, _finally_ got to see the light of day thanks to the Big Bang event. I LOVE this movie, you don't understand. If you've never heard of it before today, please, I beg of you to watch it. Chris Evans shirtless and naked, several times. That's it. That's my selling point.
> 
> Enjoy?
> 
> Title from _I Can't Not Love You_ from Every Avenue, which features in the very last chapter of his fic if you're looking for a soundtrack ;)

> _art by Kari <3 ([Tumblr](https://18-sweet-poisoned-heart.tumblr.com/) | [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetPoisonedHeart/profile))_

* * *

 

Liam has been helping Mason plan his wedding since they were kids. Since the day they swore to always be best friends via the oldest and most sacred form of pact—a pinky promise.

Things have changed, over the years. The colour scheme has been maroon, or blue, and green just the once. The cake always fluctuates between three or four tiers, multiple themes, but is never anything but chocolate. And the wedding party and groom? Well, they’ve varied the most, depending on who Mason had a crush on or was dating, and who their friends were at the time.

Noah from third grade. Alec from Model UN. Danny from college. And Corey Bryant. Twice now.

But three things have remained a constant, through all the years of planning and changes and growing up.

One: Liam is his best man.

Two: his husband-to-be has to be hot, with a good sense of humour.

Three: the wedding must be EPIC. Outdoors. White tent preferred but not required.

“Maybe not blood shed, lives ruined epic,” Liam says, grinning brightly over the edge of his champagne glass. “But certainly spanning years, and soon to be continents if they take my suggestion for a European honeymoon.”

The words elicit a chuckle from several of the more pop culture friendly guests in the room. Liam counts it as a win, and winds down his speech, focusing his gaze on his beaming best friend and the man standing with him.

“Mason. Corey. Your love story hasn’t been painless, or simple, but then, they don’t write about the ones that come easy, do they?”

Corey rolls his eyes affectionately, while Mason lets out a loud, happy laugh. The skin around his eyes crinkles, and he gives Liam a half-hearted shake of his head. “I cannot believe you just quoted Veronica Mars in my engagement party speech.”

“I’m not done,” Liam winks, and his best friend quiets, reaching out to tangle his fingers with his fiancé’s. “You’ve come a long way, you know? You’re not the same people you were when we met in high school, the first time you fell in love. The only time, really. And maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe this was always the plan, for time and circumstance to shape you into two people who had always been meant for each other, but needed to grow up a little first. Separately.”

Corey leans forward, resting his chin on Mason’s shoulder. Cheek to cheek, they both offer soft smiles to Liam as he continues, eyes glistening. “When we went to our high school reunion last year, they hadn’t seen each other since we were college sophomores. But when they saw each other, there was little doubt in my mind. It was like no time had passed at all. Like distance hadn’t kept them apart, like they had never stopped loving one another.”

His lips twitch upwards proudly. “And seeing them together again… how the rest of us melted into the background, how they only had eyes for each other that night—how their night ended earlier than anyone else’s—” Liam waggles his brows, laughing merrily as the two flush scarlet, Corey burying his face in Mason’s neck in a futile attempt to hide. “Well, it was clear they never _had_ stopped loving one another. That they’d always been meant to reconnect and rekindle their love. And that the rest of us, myself especially, would be honoured to go through that journey with them. To help charter the next step in their lives together. To reopen the wedding album Mason and I started when we were kids, to the dog-eared tab with Corey’s name on it, and put the finishing touches on a dream my best friend had when we were in high school.”

He raises his glass, and his delighted grin brightens by a thousand watts as everyone else around the Hewitts’ living room does the same. “To Mason and Corey!”

“To Mason and Corey!” They chorus.

And the countdown begins.

* * *

**_Seven months to wedding._ **

The apartment smells of sausage, crisp bacon and freshly scrambled eggs. Liam has successfully used every pan at his disposal, and even the one pot to mix the eggs in given he’d run the dishwasher full of plates and bowls before starting breakfast, like an idiot.

He thanks his lucky stars that there’s two plates left. Only one of them is dinner sized, so his own food is overflowing on the tiny snack plate, but he doesn’t much mind. He thinks it worth it when he looks up from setting the table to see Brett wander out of the bedroom, hair mussed from drying it with the towel now wrapped around his waist. He sees the moment the other man catches a whiff of breakfast, because he looks up, eyes wide, nose twitching.

“Is that tempeh sausage?” He asks, tone excited. Practically salivating.

“Sure is,” Liam beams. He lowers himself into his seat, patting the spot to his left. “You have time this morning, right?”

He tries to squash the naked hope in his voice. They never get mornings together when Brett stays over. They barely even get evenings, given how late the other man often stays at the office. So despite not having class until noon, Liam had gotten up with the sun to cook them breakfast, in an attempt to steal a few quiet moments with him.

Brett looks over his shoulder, back towards the bedroom, as if debating. He hesitates only for a moment before shrugging, and quietly making his way over. Liam lets out the breath he’d been holding, and digs into his plate as the other man takes the seat next to him. Slowly, they eat in companionable silence, but Liam can feel the question building on his tongue. The pressure tightening his chest like a spring, ready to burst, apprehension a vice around his heart.

“So,” he says, just as Brett’s taken a massive bite of eggs. Liam focuses mostly on his plate, trying his best to quell his nerves by not looking directly at the other man. But it’s a little difficult with his heart pounding his ears. “We missed you last night.”

Brett grunts, chewing at his food. He doesn’t look up.

“Mason made sure they had that beer you like.” Liam hates it, because it tastes stale, but it’s _better for his diet_ or whatever.

“That’s nice of him,” Brett says. “I’ve got a few left at the office.”

Liam’s nostrils flare, taking a deep and calming breath. “Not to like, give you. To drink… at their engagement party?”

Brett was supposed to meet him there, and Liam had texted him several reminders throughout the day, sure that he could find his way there without him. Not only hadn’t he done that, but he hadn’t responded to a single text until just before he was meant to be there, apologizing and saying he had to stay late at work.

“Right,” Brett’s lips thin. There’s a stagnant pause, and then he offers Liam a small smile. It’s tight around the edges, awkward. It looks a little forced. “I was just really swamped with the Donati case, y’know? Stewart’s been riding my ass hard in court, and we’re _so close_ to putting the little shit away. I totally lost track of time.”

Silence settles between them, and Liam realizes after a moment that Brett’s waiting for a response. His hands rest on either side of his plate, and his blue eyes are focused on the shorter man. Expectant.

Liam pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth, lips parted in an ‘O’ shape. The question still lodged in his chest twists, sending butterflies loose in the pit of his stomach.

“Oh, yeah,” Liam nods, running his free palm across his thigh beneath the table. It’s sweaty, pulling at the cotton of his pj pants. “Yeah, no, it’s cool. They understand.”

Brett’s smile relaxes, and he leans over to pat Liam’s cheek softly before wolfing down the massive bite of egg on his fork. He flashes Liam a wolfish grin, and returns to his own breakfast. The tightness in his shoulders is gone, and it’s clear that he’s done with this conversation. Chapter closed, crisis averted.

It’s just too bad that Liam’s not.

“So, do you like maroon or blue better?” Brett slows his chewing, glancing towards Liam. He’s sure the slightly raised pitch of his voice is obvious, if the confused stare he’s receiving is of any indication. “For your tie.”

“M’tie?” The question is muted, spoken around eggs.

“Yeah, for the wedding.” Liam’s words are backed by a nervous laugh. He stands from the table, taking his plate to the sink. He dumps the last bit of bacon he’s lost the appetite for into the compost, and then braces himself against the counter. “Mason’s always wanted blue or maroon to be the theme for the groomsmen, and since we’ll have to get you a matching tie—”

“Liam.”

The rest of his sentence dies on his lips, instead replaced with a heavy sigh. He’d expected that tone, really.

“I don’t remember saying I was going to the wedding,” Brett says, and reluctantly, Liam turns around to face him. He looks rather unimpressed, even if he is sitting at the kitchen table in nothing but a towel. “Did you tell them I was?”

“Well, not exactly,” Liam winces, lifting a hand to motion between them. “But I mean, I figured you’d—uh, y’know—be my date?”

Brett raises a single brow, and Liam’s heart plummets into the depths of his stomach.

“Your date.” The words snap in the taller man’s mouth, caustic. He puts down his fork, turning in his seat to properly face Liam. His bare chest rises in a sigh, and he looks all kinds of uncomfortable, face and nose scrunched up. Sort of the way Liam’s little cousin gets when he’s constipated.

“Yeah,” he nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His hands feel clammy, and for some reason, words continue to fall unbidden from his lips, like a leaky faucet. “There’ll be a vegetarian alternative, Mason’s little sister is vegan. And an open bar, I’m pretty sure. We haven’t quite worked out all the details yet, still early, y’know?”

“Are your… parents going to be there?” The hesitation pricks at his skin like needles.

“At my childhood best friend’s wedding?” Liam chuckles, but it comes out more like a wheeze. “I mean, they might be. Maybe.”

“Hm.” The noise is noncommittal, uncertain. Brett sucks in a breath, then exhales through pursed lips. “It feels a little serious, y’know? Going to somebody’s wedding as your date?”

“ _Somebody_ ?” This time, Liam’s laugh is jaded. Tinted with anger and frustration. No matter how prepared he’d made himself for this conversation the last two weeks, it doesn’t make the truth hurt less. “You know Mason and Corey. You _like_ Mason and Corey. They’re your friends.”

Brett lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, wiggling the fingers on one hand in a gesture that reads _ehh._

“Besides,” Liam continues, ignoring that every breath he draws burns on the way in. “It’s been almost eight months. I feel like—I mean, is that _not_ serious?”

The look on the other man’s face is pitying, and it stings. “We’re not dating, Liam.” Brett’s face is one permanently drawn out wince. “We’re just fucking around. You know that.”

“I know, but—”

The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as Brett stands up, knocking it back a foot. His brows pinch into an uncomfortable frown. “Liam. We said this wasn’t about feelings.”

“It’s not!”

“That means no strings. No weddings and _meeting parents_ and stupid shit.”

“I know that.”

“So why would you even ask me?” He sounds exasperated, running a hand through his messy curls; and it snaps something in Liam’s chest, like an elastic.

“Because I’m tired of this!” He says, throwing his hands into the air. “I’m tired of sleeping around, having no commitments. I want someone who’s there for me, who I can count on, who I can bring to my best friend’s wedding, one of the most important moments in my life. I want someone who appreciates when I wake up at the ass crack of dawn to make breakfast for them!”

The look on Brett’s face is aghast, as though Liam’s just punched him clean in the jaw. The urge to do so is certainly thrumming under his skin, fingers twitching, but he tamps down on it. He can’t afford a colossal slip on his anger right now.

“You know that’s not me.” Brett’s voice is quiet, low. Small.

And disappointed.

“I know,” Liam’s answering whisper is only a little anguished. He’d known it was coming, the moment he brought up the engagement party and Brett’s eyes had widened like a deer in the headlights. Longer even, since he’d come home two months ago with the great news that Mason and Corey had finally popped the question. On the same night, no less.

He knows Brett’s never been boyfriend material. And truthfully, he’s not disappointed or upset. At least, not in anyone but himself, for letting it go on this long when he knew there was nothing more to it. Nothing but a bit of fun.

He helps Brett pack up his things. There isn’t much; he’d never wanted to leave anything too important here, never took more than a drawer with some extra boxers and shirts, and the one suit hanging in the bedroom closet. Not even a toothbrush or deodorant, both things the other man keeps stocked in his office for late nights and early mornings.

Everything fits into the duffel bag he’d brought them in, once upon a time. Easy to carry alongside his suitcase. To anyone else, it would just look like he’d gone to the gym before work.

To Liam, it looks like goodbye.

A textbook break up. But could you really experience a break up with someone you’d never really been with in the first place? Did it really count if you didn’t crave a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream immediately after it happened? Or was that only for people who got broken up with as opposed to… whatever this was, this mutual parting of ways.

“Well,” Brett says, rocking back onto his heels in the open doorway of Liam’s apartment. “It’s been real, dude.”

“Really?” Liam huffs, raising a brow. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“What else do you want me to say, Liam?” Brett sighs, and the shorter man hugs his arms tighter around himself, shrugging.

He knows full well sorry isn’t on the table.

“I don’t know.”

Brett leans down, dropping a chaste kiss on Liam’s neck, then cheek. Lips brush against the shell of his ear as the other man whispers: “Call me if you change your mind about this romance bullshit.”

And then he’s gone, turning towards the staircase that winds down and away from him.

“I won’t!” Liam yells, and he’s met with a laugh from beyond the banister.

And directly across the hall from him.

He glances over, sees miles of tanned skin and a complete lack of clothing and lets out a boyish yelp. “Gah!” He slaps a hand up over his eyes, cursing under his breath.

Just his luck that there’d be a naked person in his fucking building this morning. The building was old, with an elevator that’s broken down more often than it’s functional, and two weeks ago they’d replaced the key lock at the front with an electronic fob reader. Only, it didn’t actually _lock_ yet, so anyone could just walk in.

Which apparently meant naked homeless people at seven am.

“You alright there, bud?”

“No. There’s a naked man in my hallway.”

“Pretty sure you just had a naked man in your _apartment_ ,” the guy chuckles. “So tomato, tomahto. Plus, I’m covered and still technically in _my_ apartment.”

Against his better judgement, Liam splays out his fingers, peeking through them. Though he still sees way more skin on the stranger than he’s comfortable with, he does in fact notice the hand hovering over his junk, holding a dish towel. The other hand is wrapped around the newspaper he’s obviously come out to pick up. From the apartment he’s clearly standing in the doorway of.

6A.

“Better than a homeless man, I guess.”

The stranger’s eyes light up, and his shoulders roll with an easy chuckle. “Excuse me?”

Liam realizes with horror he’s spoken aloud. “Nothing! Have a good day!”

And then he spins around, racing back into his apartment and slamming the door shut behind him. He leans against it, trying to quell his pounding heart. His face feels hot, and he knows if he went to the bathroom mirror he’d see a fierce blush flooding his skin.

So far, not the greatest morning for him.

* * *

“I told you Brett was a bad idea months ago,” Lyana says two weeks later, when he finally fesses up.

He’s going out for drinks with Mason and Corey and the full wedding party to celebrate, now that the boys have officially finished choosing everyone. And though his sister isn’t one of them, it _is_ being held at the bar where she works nights, so she graciously offered to pick him up on the way.

He was thankful, up until about five seconds ago.

“Thanks,” Liam mutters. “Hindsight is 20/20, I guess.”

“Is that really applicable when I _literally_ told you it wasn’t going to work?” She keeps her eyes trained on the road, but the smirk on her lips is no less obvious or irritating.

“Not helping,” Liam grumbles, slumping forward in his seat and smacking his forehead against the dashboard. His sister makes a noise of protest, which he ignores. “Now I’m going to have to go without a date.”

“What?” Lyana snorts, loudly. She flicks a disbelieving look his way. “You’re the best man, you need a date!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffs, waving her off. “With my luck? Unlikely.”

“Why not?” His sister softens, tone gentle and almost placating. “There’s still plenty of time to find someone, Liam. With a face like yours? C’mon. Everybody likes dressing up fancy and going to parties, even if it is a wedding.”

“That’s it, Lya! I don’t just want another casual relationship.” He knows he’s whining now, not unlike a child, but he doesn’t much care. He doesn’t really know how else to articulate the cold, empty hollow in his chest. The aching _need_ for something real, something _good_. “I want something serious.”

Lyana offers him a patient smile. “Okay. So no more sleeping around until then. Tell Mason he’s off flight attendant duty tonight.”

Liam chuckles, light and loose, and her smile brightens, telling him that’s what she was aiming for. “Okay,” he nods, and she looks pretty pleased with herself. He figures it’s the perfect time to ask. “You know… it would just be easier if you came with me.”

Her answering laugh is high-pitched and nasal, and then she’s shaking her head at him, green eyes sparkling with joy. “Firstly, I’m already _going_ to the wedding, dumbass.”

“Are you?” He says, knowing he’s being difficult on purpose. The shit-eating tone in his voice is far from accidental. “We’ve got a long way before invites go out.”

“I used to change Mason’s diaper when you were babies. I’m invited.” Liam can hear the faint click-click-click of the blinker, and then watches as she smoothly changes lanes. Once she’s settled, she holds up two fingers where he can see them. “Secondly, you can’t take your sister as your date, that’s just sad.”

He huffs, sinking back into his seat with a pout. Because of this, he nearly misses the third finger she raises, and the way her voice wavers ever so slightly as she continues speaking.

“And thirdly, I…” Her earlier bravado takes a back seat, and Liam sits up straighter immediately. “I already have a date.”

Lyana drops her hand, returning it to the wheel, and Liam’s brain implodes. “You what?”

“I have a date,” she repeats, this time more sure of herself, of her words. It does nothing against Liam’s shock and sudden confusion. He leans forward a little too quickly, and the seat belt politely reminds him where he is.

“Since— _buh_ —since _when_?!”

A small, nervous laugh escapes her parted lips, so soft Liam barely hears it. “Since last week, when I asked her.”

“Her?” Liam feels as though his eyes might fall from his skull. “Who’s her? Why is this the first I’m hearing of a her?”

His sister merely smiles, eyes soft at the corners. She makes another turn, this time into the underground parking across the street from the bar. Quietly, she kills the engine, putting the car into park and getting out. Liam scrambles out of the vehicle after her.

“Lyana!” He cries, scolding. She grabs her bag from the back seat, then stands to look at him over the top of her little car, still smiling. Only now it’s more coy, and far less demure.

“Yes, Liam?” She tilts her head, almost like a puppy. Innocent, when she’s far from it.

“You can’t just drop that on me and not give me details, woman!” He rolls his wrists in a _go on_ motion. Lyana’s eyes—green, like their mother—glance down at them, then back up to meet her brother’s blue ones.

“Can’t I?” And she starts off towards the exit, leaving him in the dust. He races after her, cursing the universe for giving him the most annoying older sister in existence. Especially one that teaches gymnastics during the day, and who was a track and field sprinter in high school. He doesn’t play nearly enough lacrosse these days to keep up with her.

More than once in his life, he’s wondered why he couldn’t have gotten Mason’s little sister, Naomi. She’s delightful.

“Listen,” Lyana says as he catches up. She offers him a sidelong look, chewing on her bottom lip. “If you give me this, I’ll get you free drinks tonight.”

“Really?” His mood brightens in an instant.

“Within reason,” she adds, and he can hear the warning in her voice, long before she holds up a finger to point at him. “And _only_ you. You’re not buying rounds for the whole table and stealing all my tip money.”

Liam holds a hand to his chest, mock gasping. “I would _never_.”

He has. Twice.

His sister pauses again, this time as they’re about to cross the street.

“And try not to get too drunk again.” It sounds like a request, but he knows later, he’ll probably think it a challenge. Once he’s a few drinks in, anyway. “Braeden always gives me the weirdest vibes when you do, like she’s gonna fire me over your antics even though she thinks you’re a harmless puppy.”

“I would never!” He repeats, and this time Liam knows full well the mischievous smirk is plainly visible on his face.

“Mhmm,” Lyana hums, sounding unconvinced. “Just do me a favor. Take care of yourself, okay? Breakups are hard.”

“It wasn’t a breakup,” he mutters, but catches her stern eye. He throws his hands up at his sides, palms flat. “Okay, okay! I’ll be careful.”

“Love you, nerd,” she smiles, dazzling and warm as she reaches over to ruffle his hair.

“Love you too.” His words are spoken around a light huff as he swats her hand away from his now disheveled locks. After all the care he’d taken to tame them before leaving the apartment. “Jerk.”

They head in, and he scans the bar for his friends. His sister finds them first, patting him on the shoulder and pointing to the other end of the room, where the round booths are. He spots his best friends immediately, and his lips curl into a massive grin as he realizes almost everyone is here already.

“Have fun, nerd.” His sister wraps an arm around his waist and gives him a tight squeeze, and Liam has just enough time to drop a kiss on the top of her head before she slinks off through the crowd, towards the bar. Leaving him alone and headed for his friends.

Mason and Corey are squished together in the middle, sitting practically on top of one another. Fitting, considering that’s all they have eyes for. Tracy is in the seat next to Corey, and is rolling her eyes somewhat affectionately as Josh and Lucas argue beside her. Across from her on Mason’s other side sits Lydia. The redhead is scrolling through her phone and looking otherwise occupied, but she glances up the moment he gets close and offers him a soft smile.

Which means they’re just waiting on…

“Liam, dude!” Garrett claps him on the back, his laugh rich and warm. Liam half turns to look at him, and is met with blue eyes, sparkling with joy. “Long time no see!”

* * *

When Liam wakes the next morning, he knows he’s hungover almost immediately, and he knows it’s a bad one. The sun is entirely too bright through his bedroom window, like the earth has moved closer to it overnight. His skin feels like it’s on fire, clammy in all sorts of unpleasant places. And his head is pounding out a steady drum solo, something that matches the beat of the bass from the bar last night.

At least, he thinks it does. He can’t really remember, honestly. A few drinks in, the remainder of his night blurs into shapes and sounds, bright and colourful but very hard to make out.

Which means Lyana is absolutely going to kick his ass when he sees her next.

Actually, he feels a little sore, so maybe she _did_ kick his ass before he left the—

“Mornin’ sunshine,” a sleepy voice mumbles, breath caressing the bare skin of his shoulder and neck. When lips press against the same space, Liam tenses up, eyes widening. _Who the hell…_

Slowly, he turns, and ends up with an arm resting across his chest for the effort. An arm that belongs to someone with sleep-mussed blonde hair, a chiseled jaw, familiar bright blue eyes and a soft laugh that cascades warmly over Liam’s skin.

“Garrett?” Liam’s unused voice cracks in the early morning quiet, and the previous night comes flooding back to him in an instant.

Every toast to the happy couple, each one longer and more extravagant than the last.

Every shot that accompanied it.

Every heated look Garrett sent his way, growing increasingly more frequent as the two flirted their way through an evening of celebratory drinks.

And the very knowing look Mason shot him as they took their leave, Garrett offering to split an Uber to Liam’s seeing as his hotel wasn’t terribly far. Obviously, he’d never made it there.

“You know,” the blonde grins, fingers dancing across Liam’s chest. “Normally I think you’re supposed to wait until the wedding to try and bag the groomsmen?”

Liam groans, burying his face in the other man’s neck. “This was not supposed to happen.”

“So you told me, three times last night,” Garrett chuckles, running his hand in a soothing circle across his back. “Of course it _was_ while making out with me, so it was a little hard to judge how serious you were.”

“Very.” Liam’s tone is petulant. “But my sister says I’m tragically weak-willed around hot guys. Especially the bad ones.”

His laugh vibrates through his chest, warm and delighted. “I’m offended, Liam. I’ll have you know I’m quite a catch.”

Liam reels back, lifting himself up on one elbow and narrowing his eyes down at the blonde, trying to ignore the handsome smile on his lips. “You slept with two thirds of the swim team in high school. Concurrently.”

“A _talented_ catch,” Garrett corrects himself, winking.

“ _Oh my god_ , please shut up,” Liam slides back and away from him, snagging his pillow and smacking the other man in the face with it.

Garrett laughs, catching the soft weapon before it hits him a second time. He peers around it, eyes bright. “Relax, Liam. It was just a bit of fun between old friends.” He tilts his head to one side, inquisitive. “At least, _I_ had fun.”

“I did too!” Liam’s quick to say, a rush of guilt flooding his chest. He hadn’t meant to sound like he was regretting it, because he _did_ have a good night. “I just—well, don’t take this the wrong way but—”

“You’re looking for something serious,” Garrett nods. “I get it.”

“I’m sorry.” And he is, really.

He’s sorry that he doesn’t have more to offer Garrett, that he wants more than the blonde has to offer him. He’s sorry he hadn’t reconnected with him sooner, before Brett. He’s sorry for a lot of things he doesn’t have the words for, that he _can’t_ put into words, that he’s not even sure he needs to be sorry for. Not where Garrett’s concerned, anyway. Not when he’s known the guy since they were kids, and he sounds more than understanding.

It’s simply a pity they want different things.

“Don’t be.” Garrett leans forward, pressing a kiss to Liam’s shoulder before rolling out of bed. He leaves the other man with a delightful view of his bare ass as he searches for his boxers, tossing a grin over his shoulder as he pulls them on. “This can stay between us, if you want. No harm done.”

Liam remembers the look on Mason’s face, his best friend’s eyes tracking them all the way out of the bar as they walked arm in arm, blissful smiles stretching across their lips. He groans and faceplants into his pillow. “And Mason. Mason definitely knows. If he doesn’t, he’ll know the moment he looks at me. I’ve never been able to hide anything from him.”

“Which means Corey knows,” Garrett points out, chuckling.

Liam makes a noise of despair, rolling over onto his back and watching as the blonde tugs on his jeans. He scratches absently at his chest, sitting up. The bed sheet pools around his waist and he frowns at the other man. “You don’t have to leave, you know. I’m not like, kicking you out.”

“I know.” Garrett flashes him a smile. “But I should probably get going. My flight back to Maryland is early tomorrow morning and I said I’d swing by mom’s while I’m close to home. She’s got a leaky faucet and a toilet that needs replacing, and promised me a batch of brownies if I fixed it. She thinks the plumber hits on her whenever he comes over, so.”

Liam hasn’t seen Mrs. Warbucks, Garrett’s adoptive mother, since their early college days. But he remembers the baked goods she used to send with her son to the lacrosse team’s fundraiser bake sales were to die for. He’s actually pretty jealous.

The thought of food gets his stomach going, so he reluctantly drags himself out of bed, procuring boxers and a shirt from his dresser while the other man finishes finding his things. He’s about to turn and ask Garrett if he’d like some coffee before heading out when there’s a knock at the door.

Both men exchange slightly startled looks. Garrett raises a brow, and Liam shrugs, dumbfounded. He makes his way to the door and opens it, not bothering to check first.

On the other side stands the naked neighbor from across the hall. Although this time, Liam is relieved to note he’s fully clothed in grey sweats, a white tee and a slightly wrinkled plaid shirt.

“Morning, 6C!” The guy offers him a bright, handsome smile, holding up a folded newspaper. “I believe this is yours.”

“Uh, thanks?” Liam frowns, reaching out to take it. He turns it over in his hand, frowning. “I don’t think I get the paper, though.”

“You don’t. But I sort of locked myself out of my apartment,” he says, rocking back on the balls of his feet. One hand rubs at the back of his neck. “No keys, no wallet. So I was wondering if I could borrow your phone?”

“Uh, s—” Liam’s barely begun the word when the other man breezes past him into the apartment. “—ure. Okay.”

6A strolls in, glancing around the living room and kitchen. “Man, this place is nicer than I expected.”

Liam scowls, unsure whether or not to be offended. He opens his mouth to respond, but Garrett steps out of the bedroom, buttoning up his shirt. He pauses, locking eyes with the newcomer and blinking owlishly. 6A’s brows rise into his hairline, and he shoots Liam a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says, though he sounds anything but. His eyes travel up and down, giving Liam a once-over, who realizes with a fierce blush that he isn’t wearing any pants. “I didn’t realize I was intruding.”

“You’re not!” Liam knows from the way the guy’s smile morphs into a smirk that the words were spoken too quickly. “He was just leaving.”

The amused look doesn’t dissipate, it only worsens. Liam’s face burns.

“I was, actually,” Garrett laughs, saving him from further torture by approaching 6A and offering him his hand. “Garrett.”

“Theo,” his neighbor grins, shaking it. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” And then he heads for the door and Liam. “I’ll see you in a few weeks, for the suit fitting. Mason said he’d let me know when you guys decide on a date.”

“Yeah, sure.” Liam nods, pressing his lips into a tight, thin line. This goodbye feels far more awkward than it should have, and he’s sure it’s because they have an audience. An attractive one, Garrett notes as he slinks past, low enough that only Liam can hear him. He chuckles, shaking his head as he goes to close the door behind him.

Which means that he has a clear view of the girl coming out of 6A, wearing a cocktail dress and matching purse. She doesn’t look up as she makes for the stairs, stomping past Garrett on her way down.

Liam’s eyes narrow, and slowly he turns to face the stranger in his apartment. Only he isn’t standing in the middle of the living room anymore.

“That’s weird,” Liam says loudly, slamming the door shut. “I feel like the girl _in_ your apartment probably could’ve helped with your lack of keys, no?”

He finds his neighbor standing in his kitchen, safely tucked out of sight of the front door and anyone leaving his place. His hands are braced on the counter in front of him, and he’s leaning against it, an easy laugh rolling his shoulders.

“You’re not wrong,” he chuckles, nodding. He looks up at Liam, innocently batting his lashes as he pushes off the counter, coming around it.  “I might’ve had a bit of a situation to get out of.”

“And so you used my apartment to hide out until it just went away?” Liam scowls as the other man strolls past and into the living room.

“I was just trying to avoid hurt feelings,” the other man shrugs, nose and face wrinkled in something of a wince.

He can only roll his eyes in response. “Classy, dude.”

“Hey, it wasn’t unlike your situation!” He raises a hand, waving it towards the door. “I feel like my timing was pretty key there, Liam.”

“It wasn’t. He was _literally_ leaving,” Liam huffs, pursing his lips. He heads for the coffee machine and presses the on switch. He’s going to need a lot of it to rival the ugly hangover bouncing around in his head. And the pleasant, repetitive _you fucked up_ it keeps trying to hammer home. Literally.

_Seriously_ , Liam thinks. _That’s it. No more casual hookups. No more partners leaving in the morning._

He clears his throat, half turns. “Speaking of leaving… Theo, was it?”

“Hey, these are really nice,” he hears Theo say, effectively ignoring him. The words set the hair on Liam’s neck rising. “Where’d you get them?” He whips around, finding Theo flipping through a stack of paintings tucked behind the couch. His pulse skyrockets, his shoulders tensing up.

Theo’s lips part in a nervous smile, and he gently places the canvases back in order. He steps back, holding up his hands, palms flat. “Okay, my bad,” he winces. “I take it you painted them?”

“Uh.” Liam scratches at the back of his neck, nodding. “Yeah, I did.”

“Weird, I thought you taught history.” Theo’s forehead puckers thoughtfully. A moment passes, and then he shrugs.

Liam’s eyes widen, and he blinks once, twice, tracking Theo’s movement as he ambles towards the entrance. Then, the words hit him fully, and Liam launches after him. “Wait a minute!” He calls, skidding out of the kitchen and around the corner. “How do you know that?”

Come to think of, Garrett had introduced himself when Theo had walked in, but Liam hadn’t, and a few moments ago…

“And how did you know my name?” He presses, eyes narrowed. “I don’t remember telling you.”

“Probably because you didn’t,” Theo says, and throws an awkward smile over his shoulder. “I uh, I’m pretty good with finding information. I used to be a cop. Or I almost was, anyway.”

Liam remains slack-jawed as the other man waves. “See ya!” And then promptly disappears through his front door.

He’s left staring, trying to process whatever just happened to his morning and decide how much he should worry about it.

And then his hangover politely reminds him that it’s still _very_ relevant, and Liam elects to pretend the whole thing never happened. Instead, he heads for the kitchen to resume his abandoned coffee plans and sit down for a weekend of grading essays.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Six months to wedding._ **

Liam’s never been good with multiple choice. Not just with tests and exams, but in real life, too. He’s always been bad at making up his mind and settling on one thing.

Especially when that one thing is food.

And  _ especially _ when that food is cake. Or several cakes, to be precise. All neatly presented and laid out on the table in front of him in sets of three, square testers. Two are blue, with little flowers on top. There’s a yellow one with half moons, and another yellow set up to look like tiny castle towers. Pink with small, dainty ribbons. And green with seashells. There’s a brown one at the far end that looks like it’s glazed with caramel, or something.

Liam knows none of them will end up looking like this at the wedding, that the boys will request a design, but they all look  _ so good _ that he can feel himself salivating.

“You guys end up yelling at me every time it’s my turn to pick where we order food from,” he says, glancing between his two best friends. “Why in the  _ world  _ do you think this is a good idea?”

Across the table from him, Corey snorts. To his right, Mason rolls his eyes, but the smile on his lips is warm, affectionate. “This is our thing.” He motions to the open scrapbook in front of him. The one he and Liam have been working on for years, over a decade and a half. Possibly more.

“Riiight,” Liam nods, then points at Corey. “But now it’s  _ your _ thing.”

“Which you said you wanted to be a part of,” Mason points out.

“And I do!” Liam gestures with his hands, voice pitching up slightly. “But like, not all the things? I mean, isn’t that a little unfair to Tracy? She’s your Maid of Honor so, shouldn’t we like… split things?”

Corey raises a brow, lips lifting at one corner. 

“I definitely feel like cake tasting would be better for her,” Liam continues, trying to ignore the way he feels like he’s rambling. Because he’s definitely rambling. 

“You remember that Tracy hates cake, right?” Corey’s smile is patient, albeit amused.

Liam presses his lips together, inhaling sharply. “Right. See, I knew there was a correlation there. I should’ve remembered she was incapable of liking anything sweet.”

Mason nearly snorts the sip of water he’d taken out his nose, while Corey lets loose a loud, raucous laugh. 

“Okay, how about this,” the normally quiet boy says, grinning at Liam. “You go for a walk, wander around, and we’ll try the cakes out. We’ll narrow it down as best we can, and call you back over for the finalists?”

“Have I ever mentioned you’re my favourite?” Liam grins, standing up from his seat. “Really, truly. My favourite person ever.”

“Ass kiss,” Mason laughs, shaking his head. Liam sticks his tongue out at his best friend, then offers them both a little wave, inching away from the table.

“Have fun, kids!” he calls, walking backwards. “Please feel free to narrow it down completely, and not offer me any options whatsoev—!”

He slams into something with enough force to nearly knock him off balance. It’s squishy, but remains solidly on its feet. If he’d been paying attention, he might’ve heard the bell above the door announce someone’s arrival into the little shop.

Someone who he absolutely just ran into, very literally.

“Ow! Do you  _ mind _ ? Look where you’re going, asshole!” The voice is loud, feminine, and incredibly familiar to Liam.

_ No, it couldn’t be. _

He can see Mason and Corey’s twin looks of surprise and horror. The former offers him a sympathetic wince, while the latter’s shock loosens as he tries not to laugh. Liam knows he’s doomed, but still, turns himself around slowly to face the woman.

“Oh hi, Malia!” he says cheerfully. He lifts his hand in an awkward little wave. 

He watches the recognition dawn on her face, slowly at first, then sort of all at once. Her forehead puckers, her eyes narrow, and her upper lip twitches. Liam can almost swear he hears a faint growl.

“Long time no see,” he laughs, and it’s all nerves. He’d dated her in his freshman year of college, just for a few months. She’d been tenacious, and some of the best sex he’d ever had, but things had gotten too hot too soon, and they’d burnt out. Messily.

Of course, it helped that she’d been in love with her best friend at the time, too. 

“Liam?” His name, spoken with the disbelief he’d expected, draws his attention away from Malia and over to the woman next to her. The very familiar woman with long dark hair, cascading in waves down her petite frame.

The same best friend she’d broken up with him over. “Kira?!” He stares, slack-jawed and bug-eyed. “Holy shit.”

“Oh my gosh,” Kira beams, her smile lighting up her whole face. She launches herself forward, drawing him into a hug. “How are you? It’s been forever!”

He pats awkwardly at her back, still face to face with Malia’s intense look of disdain. “I’m, uh, good. What about you guys?”

Kira pulls away, corners of her eyes crinkling with delight. She lets loose an adorable little giggle, then steps back, next to Malia, reaching for the taller girl’s left hand with her own. She raises them both together, high enough for Liam to see their intertwined fingers. 

And the nearly identical engagement rings they both wear. 

Liam sucks in a breath, lips parted in surprise. “Holy shit! Are you guys—I mean, of course but—when did you—what—”

His brain short-circuits, trying to process the questions faster than his mouth can say them. It results in another giggle from Kira, and Malia finally relaxes, the stiffness in her posture softening. She seems to smile despite herself, shaking her head at him. It’s a fond gesture he hasn’t seen in years, and it throws him back in time. 

“She asked me three weeks ago,” Kira gushes, her tone teasing as she bumps her fiancée's elbow. “Finally.”

Malia rolls her eyes, but it’s full of affection and warmth. She rubs at her elbow, clearing her throat. “Yeah, well, some things take time.”

Liam finds their delight contagious, and smiles, looking between them both. He folds his arms across his chest, balancing back on his heels. “No kidding. That’s a pretty long time from college.”

Malia’s face sours instantly, muscles tightening, and Kira lets out a little wince, accompanied by a drawn out “Wellllll.”

“Not all of it,” the taller woman says, words tight in her mouth. She does a pretty good job of avoiding eye contact. Kira loops an arm around Malia’s waist, tugging her closer and offering Liam both an explanation and an awkward smile. 

“It didn’t exactly… work out in college. Not the way we thought it would.”

“Not when you were still in love with—”

“Yes, well!” Kira says cheerfully, bright enough to drown out the name Malia had started on. Her eyes are electric as she recounts him a tale. Of how Kira hadn’t been ready for the taller woman’s intense feelings yet, let alone another serious relationship. How she hadn’t been prepared to progress their years-long friendship into something else. How they’d gone too fast and she’d gotten scared and backed out.

How they’d lost contact for a bit, Kira hiding away and ignoring her feelings. Throwing herself into her studies, accepting a grant for an internship and exchange program in Japan. Seeing other people as casually as possible.

But Malia had waited. Patiently. Somewhat in frustration.

And then, one day, they’d crossed paths, more or less by chance. Or maybe fate, if her name was Allison. They’d both been home for different reasons, visiting family and friends. Only Allison had known they were both in town, the sole person Kira had kept contact with when she’d left. Their whole group of friends had been home at the same time, for the first time in months, and they’d organized a get together. 

A bowling night, if Liam remembers correctly. He hadn’t been, but Lydia had, and though she’d never explained, she’d told Mason at work that it had certainly been  _ eventful _ .

But he supposes that’s what happened when you put two people who were still in love in a room together for the first time in years, and watched them fall in love all over again. He’d certainly witnessed it firsthand, with Mason and Corey.

He tells the girls as much when they’ve finished their story, pointing over his shoulder to where his best friends sit. They seem to have it made it through some of the cakes, so he supposes they can’t have been listening the  _ whole _ time, but the way they both look up when he points to them suggests they have at least a little. They wave, offering the girls bright smiles.

“That’s amazing,” Kira lets out a happy, peaceful sigh. She knocks her hip into Malia’s, who seems to fight a matching smile. “What are the odds, huh? Both of us rekindling an aborted relationship a few years down the road.”

“People change over time,” Liam shrugs. “Sometimes they aren’t equipped to deal with the love they’re meant for, so it takes a little bit of growth before they are. I know I’m not exactly the same person I was in high school, or college. And neither are any of you guys.”

“A regular fairy tale,” Malia tilts her head, looking down at the shorter woman with affection in her eyes, despite her sarcastic tone.

Liam watches the love in their eyes, the way they talk about one another. Sure, it’s filled with the odd word of a bitter nature, or the exasperated eye roll, but it’s still spoken with happiness. With comfort. With joy at being together, at undertaking this journey back to each other. And as Liam listens, he’s struck with a tightness in his chest. A desire. A  _ need.  _ He wants this. He wants this happiness more than anything.

They exchange a few more pleasantries, and then Liam bids them goodbye when Mason and Corey call him back over. He watches them approach the cake counter with a smile, and ambles back to his friends to see they’ve selected two cakes for him to try. The green kind, and one of the blue ones.

For once, he doesn’t have much trouble choosing, surprising both of his friends. He thinks they make fun of him, but he doesn’t really hear it, lost in his own thoughts. Stuck on something Kira said to him earlier. The sentence replays over and over again, through the rest of cake tasting, and the whole walk home back to his apartment.

_ Some people get better with age. _

Liam grins as an idea pops into his head.

* * *

He starts the next day, after his afternoon class.

He sits down at his computer with a drink, a bag of chips, and an open notebook. He finds it easier to write them all down by hand, first. Then he’ll have something easier to check off as he starts looking for them online. He has several tabs open with Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, and he gets to work.

He clicks open a pen, and starts writing, scribbling names down on the page on a neat little list.

Every name of every person he’s ever dated. 

From his high school girlfriend all the way to his last serious relationship. He reads through it twice, double checking, and crosses out two names right off the bat. Malia, obviously. And Brett, even though he hadn’t really meant to put him on the list in the first place. He’d just wanted to be thorough.

Liam starts with Instagram, but finds that difficult when most people don’t use their full names for their username, or have their accounts set to private. And since he doesn’t have an account himself, it turns into an obstacle pretty quickly. He finds a handful of prospects, but without a way to message them, he’s out of luck.

The same thing happens with Facebook. Too many people with similar names and profile pictures and privacy settings blocking him out. Not to mention that some could have multiple accounts. He knows Mason’s had at least three growing up, wiping out profiles and starting fresh in different periods of his life.

Twitter gives him basically the same fruitless search. This time, he has an account, but it’s from sophomore year of college, and most people have unfollowed him or deactivated. And those he still has are college classmates he hasn’t spoken to in years, and he wouldn’t be useful even if he was interested in speaking with them again.

He’s halfway through his bottle of wine, the sun setting on the horizon and shadows descending over his apartment, when he gives up. Liam lets loose a defeated groan, slumping back in his seat and staring up at the ceiling. He spins in his chair, wondering how in the hell he can be so good with names and dates and the history of the world, but researching his own personal history? Utterly useless.

He’s just never been good with information, be it about himself or people he’s been close to. Especially ones that are basically strangers to him now.

A single thought slingshots into his brain, hitting him with such force that he rocks forward in his chair, spinning the wheels and nearly falling out of it.

It’s probably a terrible idea, but he doesn’t know unless he tries.

He gets up from his seat, grabbing the notebook with his carefully constructed list. He heads for the door, steps out into the hallway, and hesitates. Stares across at the letting on Theo’s door, knuckles whitening as he tightens his grip. There’s a nervous hum beneath his skin, and he’s not sure why.

He tries to talk himself out of it twice. After all, this plan sounds ridiculous, even to his own ears. What’s someone like Theo going to say? The worst he can do is laugh at him, Liam supposes. So he takes a deep breath, and takes a step forward, rehearsing what he’s going to say in his head. Trying to make it sound less crazy than it is.

Then the door swings open to reveal his very familiar and  _ very _ naked neighbor. Mid-laugh, with an apple held between his teeth and a dish towel held over his crotch.

Liam can hear a masculine laugh echo back from the depths of the apartment. “Hurry up,” the deep voice that accompanies it filters out the open door. “I’m cold.”

“Mhmm,” Theo hums around the fruit in his mouth, eyes trained on Liam. He raises an inquisitive brow as he dips down to pick up the morning’s paper and tucks it under his arm. With his hand free, he reaches up and plucks the apple from his lips, filling the space between them with a loud smack.

“Evenin’, neighbor.”

“Uh, hi.” Liam blinks, a little thrown off. He’d sort of expected the other man to be clothed, and now that he’s not peeking through open fingers at him, miles of toned skin are on full display for him. He momentarily forgets why he’d left his apartment.

“Something I can help you with, Liam?” Theo grins, looking absolutely pleased at the effect he’s having on the poor soul.

Liam nods, clearing his throat. “Oh, right! Uh.” He wanders over, keeping his eyes up high as he approaches, holding out his notebook. “So, you said were pretty good with information, right?”

“Mhmmm,” Theo hums again, amusement clear in his tone. He takes a bite of his apple and chews at it while wearing a smirk that makes Liam’s t-shirt feel too tight at his neck, somehow. 

“Well, I was thinking maybe, uh, maybe I could pay you to find some people for me?” Liam winces, and feels dread build in his chest as Theo’s brows rise into his hairline. Slowly, he swallows and frees up his mouth, and Liam watches his adam’s apple bob in the process. 

“That doesn’t sound like something a stalker would say,” Theo chuckles. “Or an axe murderer.”

Liam’s ears prickle, likely turning red. “It’s uh, It’s just some people I’ve dated, that’s all.” This is definitely not how he wanted to explain this.

“Ouch,” Theo winces, spinning the apple in his grasp. “STD huh? That’s the opposite of a sexy phone call.”

“What? No!” Liam yelps, face heating. “I’m not—I don’t have—”

He stomps his foot on the tiled floor, and watches a lazy, pleased grin spread across Theo’s lips. 

“It’s not like that.” Liam’s words are tight around the edges, and his nerves betray him as he begins gesturing with his hands as he speaks. “I’m just a firm believer in second chances. Yeah. And I think that maybe, possibly, one of the people on this list might be it for me.”

There’s a long, drawn out silence as Theo leans forward, scanning the names and information scribbled into the notebook. He takes another slow bite of his apple, raising a challenging brow as he lifts the dish towel away from his crotch to wipe his mouth.

Liam doesn’t dare move a muscle, and tries very hard to ignore the infuriating smirk Theo’s wearing. The other man swallows, and lets out a loud, bright laugh as the dish towel returns to it’s safe space. “Dude, that  _ definitely _ sounds like something a stalker would say!”

Liam scowls. “I’m not a stalker.”

“But you think  _ the One _ is on this list?” Theo snorts, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh. No way. I’m not helping you chase down a bunch of people who’ve already broken up with you. That’s just sad.”

“Why do you assume they broke up with me?” Liam tucks the notebook under his arm as he crosses them in a huff.

Theo eyes him carefully, giving him a cursory once-over. “You seem like the kind of guy that drags out a bad thing just because he wants it to work.”

He wants to argue. Really, he does. But the sting of his argument with Brett is still very fresh in his mind, and he ends up pouting. “Maybe I’m just optimistic.”

“Or, a crazy stalker.” 

Liam’s scowl deepens, and his grip tightens on his notebook so badly his knuckles turn white again, only this time there’s no nervousness buzzing under his skin. Only irritation, and the itch to wipe that playful smile off Theo’s lips.

“Personally, that’s sort of my type,” the other man winks. “So, y’know, why waste a good opportunity when it’s right in front of you.”

“No thanks,” Liam says drily. He turns on his heel and stomps back towards his apartment. “Thanks for nothing, asshole!”

“You’re welcome, anytime!” Theo calls after him. “Seriously. Like, my door’s always open. But there’s a strict no clothes polic—”

Liam slams his front door shut, practically growling. He whips the notebook towards the couch, watching as it bounces and sails through the air, clattering to the ground.

“What an ass,” Liam hisses, shaking his head.

He regrets even bothering to ask. He should’ve known nothing good would come of it. He gets the feeling that Theo’s the kind of guy that doesn’t do favors unless he’s getting something out of it. After all, he’d come over the other day thinking he was doing Liam a favor chasing out a one night stand just to avoid his own.

And that’s when it hits him. An idea nearly as stupid as the first, with just as many ethical issues.

But Liam can feel the buzz in his head from the wine, and when he glances at the calendar on the bulletin board by his desk, the countdown to Mason and Corey’s wedding glares back at him in bright, angry red lettering. It fills him with a sense of desperation, and he throws caution to the wind for the second time tonight.

He grabs his jacket from the hook at the front door, and rushes out of his apartment and across the hall, slipping it on as he goes. He skids up to 6A and starts knocking, frantically. “Theo! Theo open up, quickly!”

A moment later, the door swings open, and Liam’s fist almost connects with Theo’s confused face. He’s not naked anymore, Liam notes as he bulls his way past and into the other man’s apartment. Now he’s got sweats on.

The other occupant, however, does not.

“I’m so sorry,” he tells the guy, throwing every ounce of panic into his voice. “He has to go.”

“What?” Theo and the guy both say simultaneously, the latter sitting up in bed and causing the sheet to fall away from his bare chest.

“It’s grandma!” Liam says hurriedly, eyes scanning the apartment. 

It’s much smaller than his, seeing as how it’s a bachelor, so the entire section where Liam’s bedroom and office are is nonexistent. The kitchen is nice, with dark cabinets and countertops that look like stone, much warmer than Liam’s own. His living room is simple, with a futon and a guitar propped in the corner. And then there’s his bedroom, with a double bed tucked into the corner, clothes strewn about. 

He spots Theo’s dresser, and he heads towards it, feet pattering across the tile. He realizes he didn’t grab shoes, and hopes the guy doesn’t notice. “She went for her weekly walk with the nursing home and she got bit by a dog! She’s at the hospital, and they said there’s so much blood. She’s lost a lot!”

He wrenches open a drawer, and nearly cries in triumph at guessing right on the first try. He tugs free a t-shirt, just as Theo approaches him.

“She has, huh?” The taller man asks, trying in vain to hide the delight in his voice. This close, Liam can see amusement sparkling in the green of his eyes as he shoves the shirt into his hands.

“Yeah,” he hisses, tone urgent. “We definitely need to go.”

He spins, looking at the stranger in Theo’s bed. “Again, super sorry about this!” He wrinkles his nose, pressing his lips together in a sympathetic line. “I’m sure you’re a great guy. Sorry to ruin your night, dude!”

He pushes at Theo’s back, herding him towards the door. “He’ll call you, okay? Let yourself out!” Liam tosses over his shoulder, though he doesn’t mean it. Not in the least.

Theo’s skin is warm beneath his fingertips, and he reaches back and tries to swat at Liam several times as he ushers them across the hall and into his apartment. But Liam doesn’t let go until they’re safely inside, door locked behind them.

Theo steps away from him, into the living room, a laugh shaking his shoulders. 

“Grandma got bit by a dog?” Theo turns to face him, grinning as he pulls on his shirt. “Really?”

“Shut up,” Liam grumbles. “It was all I could think of.”

“Well it’s impressive, in any case.” He leans back against the couch, arms crossed over his chest. They fall directly beneath the lettering on his shirt, which Liam now realizes says  _ Free Licks _ , with the I being replaced by a guitar.

He barely resists rolling his eyes. “Impressive enough to work for me?”

“A lot of things work for you, Liam,” Theo gives him an appraising once-over, brows waggling. “Including scaring off the competition.”

This time, Liam really does roll his eyes. “You know what I meant, jackass.” He walks over and picks up the notebook from where it fell earlier, brandishing it towards him. “You help me find my exes, and I’ll help you get rid of yours.”

“I thought you disapproved of my serial dating methods.” Theo’s smirk is challenging, but the tilt to his lips looks almost impressed, like he hadn’t expected any of this from Liam.

Truth be told, neither had Liam. “If they don’t know what to expect from you after spending a night with you, I think it’s their own fault,” he shrugs. “You don’t exactly scream boyfriend material.”

“Ouch. I’m offended, Liam, truly.” He places a hand over his heart in mock surprise. “I promise you every inch of me is made of  _ excellence.  _ You’re welcome to take a look, if you want. You know, more than you already have.”

“Do we have a deal?” Liam says loudly, ignoring the blush creeping up his neck.

Theo’s eyes flicker down to the notebook, and he can almost see him process the request. Debate with himself. And then decide.

He swipes the notebook from Liam’s fingers with a dazzling smile. “Buy me dinner, and we’re in business, partner.”

* * *

They go out for breakfast in the morning. Nothing fancy, just the McDonalds on the corner down the street, because Liam’s heading out for the day, and Theo had told him last night after striking a deal that he worked better on a fresh day, with coffee and sunlight.

Liam thinks he’s full of shit, but he’s rolling with it anyway, because he doesn’t really have any other options. 

Theo inhales his first mcmuffin with little effort, and is halfway through his second by the time Liam finishes the plain bagel he’d picked up. He sips absently on his coffee, eyes scanning the list he spent last night rewriting. Both because he’d wanted to prioritize people, and because Theo had pointed out he wrote like a messy fifth grader.

He hands it over the moment the last of Theo’s breakfast disappears into the black hole attached to his face. You’d think the guy hadn’t eaten in days, or something.

“Wha’s’his?” Theo asks through a mouthful of food. Liam’s nose wrinkles.

“You complained about the last one,” he shrugs. “So I retyped it and printed it out for you. I also reorganized, so work your way down.”

“Oooh, we have preferences,” Theo waggles his brows, eyes tracking left and right across the page. “ _ Interesting.  _ Hayden Romero. She’s at the top, so I assume she’s the one that got away, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Liam clears his throat, hands clammy as he rubs at the back of his neck. “Sure.”

“Hmm, touchy subject. Got it.”

“It’s not!” But the quickness of his answer gives him away, and he curses how easy it seems to be for the other man to set him off. He sighs, squeezing his hands into fists and then letting them go, wiggling his fingers. It’s always been a calming tactic, and seems to do the trick. “She does a lot of humanitarian work through her mom’s foundation.”

“Romero Restoration?” 

Liam perks up. “You know it?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s huge. And important. She might be easy to locate, but she’s sure as hell not gonna be easy to reach.” He chews on his bottom lip. “She worth it?”

Liam remembers summers with sand between his toes, sun on his skin, and the wind blowing through long black hair. He remembers prom night, and the way the fairy lights reflected off her silver dress, making her the only star he wanted to gaze at. Moonlit nights on the roof, naming constellations and dreaming of all the places they’d travel to together when they were older. 

Yes, he wants to say. 

“We were supposed to go to the same college, but she flew out to Uganda the week after graduation and… didn’t really come back,” he says instead. 

“Yikes,” Theo winces, swallowing his food. “And you think she’s gonna choose you over saving the world, huh?”

“It’s not—“ Liam sighs. “Look, you just find them, okay? Let me worry about what comes after.”

“You got it,” Theo nods. He returns to scanning the list. “Okay, okay. We’ve got some strong contenders in here. Good relationship material. I can work with this.”

“Good, because I’m already late,” Liam says, checking his phone to see a text from Mason asking where he is. “You good?”

“Fantastic,” Theo grins. “Go do your thing.”

“Thanks.”

He makes it three feet before he remembers something and skids to a stop, spinning around. “Oh, and move Jackson up the list. He was a selfish asshole, but he was the best sex I ever had!”

Theo smirks, and Liam almost knows what’s coming before he opens his mouth. “That’s because you haven’t had sex with me yet.”

“Maybe,” Liam shrugs, and finds himself mirroring the cocky look, finally excited to have the upper hand. “But I’ve slept with my fair share of overconfident, broke musicians, so I’m good. Thanks.”

It wipes the grin right off his face. For once, Theo’s left blinking at him, taken aback. “What makes you think I’m any of those things?”

“I saw the guitar in your apartment last night,” Liam says, lifting a finger. Which he then points at the clothes the other man is wearing. “You still dress like a teenage boy who stays up late playing video games and hides porn magazines under his mattress. And I bought you breakfast  _ and  _ dinner last night.”

“I’m between paychecks,” Theo shrugs, but Liam knows from the red staining his cheeks that he’s right on the money. 

“Mhmm,” he nods, motioning at the list in the other man’s hand. “Well, if you want one sooner rather than later, get tracking. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

And with that, he turns on his heel, walking off down the street with a bounce in his step. 

“Bring dinner!”

Liam’s laugh keeps him afloat the whole way to the tailor’s. 

* * *

“So, what do you think?”

Liam twists and turns, looking at himself in the mirror. The tux is a little tight in the shoulders, but it looks nice. He looks  _ good _ . A deep navy blue, with the subtlest little lines running down the length. The shirt is neatly pressed, just slightly off white, and he knows from the book Mason’s got open on the main table that there’s going to be either a pale blue bow tie or regular tie. In a matching shade to the dresses Lydia and Tracy are currently wearing.

The girls were the first to be fitted, Lydia speeding along the process significantly just by being here, wrangling them all into some sort of order, and being the one to recommend the tailor. Which is probably a good thing, considering how much Tracy hates fancy events. 

She’s sitting in the corner, watching from the corner of her eye and resolutely ignoring Garrett, who’s trying to chat her up. Liam would be amused that he seems intent on sleeping his way through the single members of the wedding party if he hadn’t been the first target.

“I like it,” Liam nods. Mason beams at him in their reflection. 

He and Corey haven’t even tried on their suits yet, but Liam took a peek while he was changing into his. He knows they’re midnight black, matching, with each other’s initials sewn into the breast pockets in gold threading.

“It still needs some work,” Lydia says with a click of her tongue, pulling at the seam on his left shoulder. She whispers a handful of words to the tailor—terms that Liam doesn’t even pretend to understand—and the man nods, then waves Liam to the back to change out of his outfit. 

He sticks a few pins into it, stretching the measuring tape this way and that before he releases him back the others. 

As Liam takes a seat, Lucas disappears into the back, next in line. He settles into his spot on the couch, and scans the rest of the wedding party with a happy smile.

Mason and Corey are huddled by their wedding book, grinning excitedly and pointing at things with Lydia adding in her professional two cents every now and then. Josh is flipping through a magazine, eyes darting up over it to keep an eye on how Tracy’s faring with Garrett. The latter is trying his heart out, really, but she’s not even looking at him. 

He feels a faint buzz in his pocket, and pulls his phone from it.

There’s a new message from Theo.

_ Found your haunted house hubby. _

“Holy shit,” he whispers, sitting up straighter. “He found Walcott.”

“Sean Walcott?” Mason says, and Liam jumps a little, grip loosening on his phone almost enough to drop it. He looks up to see his best friend has wandered over close enough to hear. “Like, the Zombie Walk guy you dated in college?”

Liam blinks. Leave it to Mason to remember someone he’d dated for a month. “Uh, yeah.”

“What do you mean  _ found  _ him? Why are you looking for him?” Mason’s inquisitive gaze feels heavy, and he can see the gears working overtime behind his best friend’s brown eyes. Mason cocks his head to the side, assessing. 

“Um.” Liam licks his lips, hesitating. He’s unsure what to say, how much to give away. But the longer he stalls, the more scenarios Mason runs through in his head. “Well, see… the other day, when we went cake tasting, and I ran into Malia and Kira—”

“Wait, you did?” Lydia appears over Mason’s shoulder, eyes bright. “Did you see Malia’s ring? Tell me the rock is big enough to make up for her years of waiting, the poor girl.”

Tracy barks out a loud laugh, while Corey winces in sympathy. 

“Uh, I think? I mean, I don’t really—I wasn’t looking, honestly?” Liam shrugs. That appears to be the wrong answer, because Lydia focuses her gaze more intently on him, like a hawk circling prey. 

“What  _ were _ you looking at, Liam?” Tracy’s voice is saccharine. “Love lost?”

“No, of course not!” He throws her a look, and a pleased smile slithers across her lips. Not unlike the cat with a canary in its maw. “They were catching me up, telling me about how they rekindled their romance. I said it was like Mason and Corey, and how they’d come together again after years apart and fallen in love all over again.”

“Oh my god,” Lydia gasps, at the very same time that Mason’s eyes widen, and Liam watches the realization click in both their faces. “Liam, tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

“What?” Josh looks up, scenting the drama.

“You’re looking up all your exes, aren’t you?” Mason would sound almost impressed, if not for the sadness in his eyes. 

“What?” he shrugs. “I just thought maybe some of them were worth a second look.”

Tracy’s laugh is loud and nasal. 

“Dude.” Garrett  _ definitely  _ looks disappointed. Maybe pitying. “Really?”

“It’s not that crazy of an idea!” Liam cries, looking at the group of them, and settling on Mason and Corey in particular. “People get better with age. You guys are proof of that.”

“Liam,” his best friend says, tone patient. “It didn’t work out with  _ most _ of your exes for pretty good reasons. Reasons that I don’t really think a few years apart fixes. They just weren’t right for you.”

“Well,” he stands up with a slight huff, determination in his voice. “Maybe now one of them is.”

* * *

The music is loud when Liam gets to the address Theo texted him. A bar in the Haight called  _ Noc Noc _ . 

He’s pretty sure when he passed through the doors he walked  _ directly _ into Tim Burton’s mind. The place is dark and ominous, with tinted lighting and an atmosphere that feels out of place given that it’s not October. 

At least until he gets a look at the staff.

The hostess checking IDs is dressed in a long black dress, with prosthetic fangs and fake blood at the corner of her lips. The waitress that he passes on the way to the booth Theo’s sitting in has a fluffy tail sticking out of her red skirt, and little grey wolf ears poking out beneath the hood of the long red cape she’s wearing. And the bartender closest to the entrance is blue. Literally blue!

“What  _ is _ this place?” Liam says as he slides into the seat opposite Theo. The other man tips his beer bottle away from his lips with a smile, sliding a second one towards him. 

“Themed bars are a big hit, dude,” Theo shrugs. “Missing Halloween in the middle of July? These guys have covered. Slasher flicks and questionable browser history your thing? Come on down.”

“And  _ this _ is where you tracked Sean to?” Liam looks around, scanning the bar. It’s pretty packed, and he’s thinking that if he wants to accidentally run into the guy, he’s probably gonna have to get up and go looking. 

“I mean, you  _ did _ meet at a haunted house,” Theo points out. 

Liam ignores the dig, instead taking a swig of his beer. Liquid courage, or whatever will keep him afloat through the ridiculous endeavor he’s now officially in the middle of. He gives the room another cursory glance, then looks to Theo.

“Okay, well, thank you!” He says cheerfully. “I can take it from here. I’m sure I can find him in here, wherever he is.”

“Oh, it won’t be very hard.” Theo’s shit-eating grin is knowing, and he points the tip of his beer bottle at something over Liam’s shoulder. The other man follows the move to the end of the bar, where a pretty girl is sat. She’s not in any sort of costume, but has enough rings and jewelry with skulls on it that she fits right in. 

And across the bar top is a well built man with short cropped blonde hair, milky white contact lenses, and fake blood splattered around his lips. When he smiles handsomely at her, Liam gets a clear view of the long, sharp fake teeth in his mouth.

“Oh, fuck no,” he hisses, and it must be loud enough that Theo catches it, because the other man lets loose a hearty laugh. Liam takes several long chugs of his beer.

“Not quite what you were expecting?”

“ _ Exactly _ what I was expecting,” Liam shakes his head, his empty bottle clinking against the table. “When I met him at a zombie walk in college, he was working nights at the bar.”

This earns him another warm laugh. “So, pretty much exactly what he’s doing now?”

“Yeah.” He lifts the beer bottle with an inquisitive look. “Did you pay for this already?”

Theo nods. 

“Good, let’s go.”

And he slides out of the booth before Theo can protest. 

He waits until they’re outside to ask: “What, you didn’t even want to go say hi, for old time’s sake? See what it’s like to kiss a piranha?”

“No fucking thanks,” Liam huffs. “He was a fan of biting.”

Theo’s laugh haunts him the whole way home.

* * *

There’s birds chirping outside his window when Liam wakes the next morning. His left foot is asleep, so he rolls around under the pleasant warmth of his duvet, waiting for the pins and needles to pass. He doesn’t have to move very quickly today, considering he doesn’t have a class until early afternoon, but he always wakes shortly after the sun does.

Slowly, he pulls himself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he heads towards the bathroom. The tiled floor is cold beneath his feet, and he winces several times on the way there. He rids himself of last night’s beer in the toilet, brushes the stale taste of it from his teeth and runs a comb through his horrible bedhead, running through a mental checklist of how many quizzes he can get done grading over his morning coffee.

He’s mid-yawn when he backtracks through his room, heading for the living room and has to skid to a stop. The move pinches the skin beneath his feet, but he’s too busy gaping at the man draped over his couch to care.

Theo is stretched out, one leg hung over the side, propped up on one of the throw pillows. He’s hugging the other one tightly to his chest, eyes closed and one arm tucked behind his head. He looks peaceful, and right at home. Except for the fact that he’s fully clothed, like he’s going out.

“What are you doing here?” Liam asks.

Theo startles, eyes flying open. His one leg twitches, curling beneath him. “Oh, good morning.” He blinks blearily up at Liam, who stands with his hands on his hips, trying very hard not to physically remove the irritating man from his couch. Or at least his shoes, which are touching plenty of places people sit themselves. “I’m waiting for, uh—”

He frowns thoughtfully, one hand hovering in the air, pointing towards the door and thus his apartment across the hall. His nose wrinkles in thought, then he snaps his fingers. “Beth? Beth to leave.”

“You… You hooked up with someone last night, after we left the bar?” Liam says incredulously. They’d walked back to the building together, which means either Theo had gone out again, or he’d gotten someone to come to him. 

“Of course not,” Theo makes a face. “I had a romantic evening with a very lovely lady.”

“Mhmm,” Liam rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest and peering down at the other man. “And this morning?”

“I told her I had an early history class,” he smiles cheerfully up at Liam. “Hi teach!”

Liam rips the pillow from his hands and hits him in the face with it. Satisfied with the muffled groan, he heads for the kitchen to resume his coffee plans. 

“Not that I’m condoning this behavior with a reward or anything, but seeing as I need you functional—want a coffee?” Liam calls over his shoulder.

“Um, about that…See, I was going to make  _ you _ coffee this morning, as a sort of thank you for letting me crash on your couch but, well…”

The coffee machine is on, but the pot is nowhere in sight. There is, however, the plastic handle that’s usually attached to it, sitting plainly on the countertop. Liam also notices the broom is leaning against the pantry door. 

He exhales through gritted teeth. “You broke my pot, didn’t you?” 

“I’m used to a Keurig!” Theo whines. 

Liam is not nearly awake enough to deal with this. He trudges towards the front door, swiping his keys off the hook by the door. “Okay, I’m getting us Starbucks. Becky better be gone when I get back, because I’m putting you to work. In your own apartment. Where I don’t care if you break anything or wear shoes on furniture.”

“Beth. And sure, but you might want to put some pants on first.” Theo’s smirk is just barely visible over the pillow he’s hugging again. “Not that I mind the view, but y’know…”

Liam glances down, and realizes he’s still in his boxers. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he grumbles, stomping back towards his bedroom.

* * *

“I swear, this shit’s nearly as expensive as getting another coffee pot,” Liam whines, trudging up the winding stairs towards their floor, tray in one hand and banister in the other. He can see Theo hanging over the side of the railing above, looking down at him. There’s a little white paper box in one hand, and chopsticks in the other.

Liam can make out the distinct smell of Chinese food.

“I promise what’s waiting up here is worth every penny.”

“Is that Red Jade?” Theo nods, and Liam’s stomach grumbles. “Is there fried rice?”

“Absolutely!” Theo grins. 

“You’re forgiven.”

“Yes!” Theo pumps his fist into the air, then disappears through the open door of his apartment as Liam reaches their floor. The shorter man follows, nose twitching in excitement. He kicks the door shut behind him and settles the tray on the countertop.

When he spins around, he finds Theo standing in front of his bedroom wall, slurping a pad thai noodle into his mouth. The dresser from the other day has been moved, tucked into the living room in order to make room for what looks very much like the suspect boards Liam’s seen in every procedural drama he’s ever watched. Complete with red string lines between info printouts and pictures. 

Liam’s name is at the center of the board, with a picture he doesn’t recognize.

“Is that… me sleeping?”

“Wha—?” Theo half turns, notices Liam standing there, and swallows his mouthful. “Oh, yeah. I took it this morning.”

Liam frowns, popping open the container of fried rice and spooning some directly into his mouth.. “You could’ve just like, asked for a picture or something. Or just left it at my name.”

“Nah, I needed it for your Facebook profile.” 

Liam chokes on his mouthful of rice. Violently. 

“Whoa, you okay there?” Theo reaches out, patting him on the back.

When he recovers enough to speak, Liam offers him a glare. “I don’t have a Facebook profile.”

“Well, you used to,” Theo points out, shrugging. “I reactivated it. I figure there’s no harm in covering all our bases. Maybe you’re not the only one feeling the nostalgia vibes. One of your exes could easily be looking for you, too.”

“You think?” He’s skeptical. 

“I hope so.” Theo flicks him a grin before devouring another bite of pad thai. While he chews, Liam fixes himself a proper bowl, and joins the other man in front of his complex board. He scans across all the names and dates and numbers, and nods, impressed.

“This is… quite the set up.” He glances sidelong at the other man, hesitant to take his first real bite of food. “You said you were a cop?”

Theo makes a face, responds with a noncommittal noise. “In training, sort of. Didn’t quite check off all the boxes on the personality exams for public service, though, so I was cut from the program.” His tone is bitter. “I didn’t really want to be one, anyway.”

“Then why join up?”

Theo’s eyes stay trained to the board, but his voice is far away as he speaks. “One of my childhood friends. His dad was a cop, one of the best. The Sheriff, actually. He came by our house a lot, growing up. My dad was… sort of a piece of shit, honestly.” His tone isn’t sad, exactly, but there’s something melancholy about it.

“Laid a hand on my mom one too many times, and the Sheriff put him away. Course,  _ she _ also went away. Said it was to get better, but I don’t think she really ever did.” Theo shrugs, chewing on his bottom lip. Liam notices not for the first time that he does it when he’s deep in thought about something. He finds it sort of endearing, despite himself. “Sheriff took me and my older sister in, afterwards. The three of us spent many a night on stakeouts, or looking at boards just like these.”

Liam doesn’t know what to say. He can feel his fried rice getting cold in his hand as he stands there, staring at the side of Theo’s face. Processing his words. Something so clearly personal and raw is such a contrast to what he’s seen so far that it throws him for a moment. For several moments, really, during which he memorizes the cut of Theo’s jaw, and the patterned way the fresh stubble stretches across his skin.

“I’m sorry,” he finds himself whispering.

He thinks for a moment that the spell might break if he looks away, so instead Theo turns his way, locking eyes with him. There’s a constellation of sadness flecked in the green, but Liam only sees it for a second or two. Then there’s a grin stretching across Theo’s lips, and a renewed energy that washes out the sour mood.

“Okay!” Theo claps his hands together, and the sound crashes through whatever quiet moment had settled between them. “Ready to stalk some potential soulmates?”


	3. Chapter 3

**_Five months to wedding._ **

Quinn is one of the best mechanics at SF Auto Works, in the heart of downtown. It’s not far from most of the places Liam frequents, but seeing as he doesn’t have a car, he’d never have a chance in hell of accidentally crossing her.

Which means that Theo has to tag along, yet again. And lend Liam his truck, pretending that there’s some work that needs to be done on it. By Quinn, who “a friend referred them to.”

_ And  _ sit there listening while Liam awkwardly reintroduces himself to Quinn, who doesn’t quite seem to remember him. At all. Not even a little bit.

Not until one of the guys working in the shop drops one of the cars from the lift, knocking a wave of dust loose. It tickles at Liam’s nose and he reels back, winding up for a sneeze that’s loud enough to echo throughout the whole garage.

“Oh!” Quinn brightens, snapping her fingers as the recognition dawns on her. “Liam!” 

He turns a very bright shade of red. A red that remains nearly the whole way home. 

“Oh, man!” Theo says, tapping on the wheel in delight as he cruises down the street. “I don’t know what’s better; the fact that your sneeze is loud enough to rattle the earth, or the fact that she recognized you by it. Or the face you made, which could’ve easily been close to the face you make during an or—“

“Okay, that’s enough! Thank you!” Liam cries, his whole face burning.

He rips Quinn’s name off the wall the moment they make it back to Theo’s apartment, practically fuming. The latter follows him inside, chuckling. Despite the fact that his eyes are glued to his phone, Liam’s sure the other man’s amusement is directed his way. 

So sure, in fact, that he stomps around across the tiny space to the kitchen and yanks open the fridge, irritation spreading beneath his skin like a rash. His eyes skip over the half empty takeout boxes, expired milk and door full of condiments and zero in on the case of beer on the bottom shelf. He pulls one free and stands up, going to shut the door. 

Then he remembers he’s not in  _ his  _ apartment, and that’s probably a little rude. 

So he grabs a second beer. 

Theo accepts it with a smile. “Making yourself at home, huh?”

“Don’t start,” Liam huffs, lifting the drink to his lips. 

“I personally would’ve waited for the pizza,” Theo continues, shrugging and mirroring the move. His next words whistle slightly down the neck of the bottle. “But I understand.”

“Pizza?” Liam frowns, cocking his head slightly. 

“I just ordered.” Theo holds up his phone with a grin, and Liam can see the little tracker displayed plainly. It’s currently baking. “It’s my go to food when I’m in a shitty mood, so.”

“Oh.” Liam blinks, surprised. “Thanks.”

A teasing smirk spreads across Theo’s lips like wildfire, and Liam knows he’s doomed before the other man even opens his mouth. “First my beer, then my pizza, huh? Anything else of mine you’d like a piece of?”

He scowls. “No.”

The other man shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

By the time the food arrives they’ve polished off their first beer, so Theo instructs him to grab them another few and follow him. He disappears out his front door and heads for the stairs, winding upwards and nearly out of sight. Liam races to catch up, frowning as he goes. There’s a few more floors above them, but he doesn’t know any of the people that live there, so he’s really not sure where the other man is leading him.

It’s not until they reach the roof that he understands.

Well, sort of.

“Isn’t the roof off-limits?”

Theo snickers, and throws a pleased grin over his shoulder as he heads for the couch sitting in the middle of what looks like an outdoor living room. There’s a lamp, a tv and a coffee table. Even an awning to presumably protect from rain. 

There’s also a drum kit. And a telescope. 

“You mean the memo in the elevator two months ago?”

Liam nods. “And the flyers in the doors.”

Theo’s smile turns wicked. “Yeah, that was all me. The studio my band and I used to rent a room from went under, and so we started practicing up here instead.”

Liam stares at him, dumbfounded, as he collapses into the couch with a happy sigh. He lays the pizza box in the middle seat, patting the free space beside it as he flips it open. The smell makes Liam’s mouth water. 

He hands Theo his beer and takes a seat, reaching immediately for a delicious slice. As he relaxes back into the couch, which is decently comfy, he takes a bite and closes his eyes, inhaling. “Dude, this is so good.”

“Right?” Theo chuckles. “I told you it’s the best pick me up.”

They power through the box amid comfortable conversation, Theo regaling him with stories about his band mates and their antics. He comes alive as he talks about them, eyes bright and smile easy. Erica, lead vocalist and badass rocker chick with a heart of gold. The drummer Boyd, a quiet, gentle soul and her long-time boyfriend. Isaac, the sarcastic guitarist who never hesitates to show Theo up and play a riff he could only dream of. The only one whose name he doesn’t catch is the bassist, but Theo just refers to her as his best friend.

It’s the happiest Liam’s seen him yet, completely different from his usual upbeat persona. As though the layer of flirtatious, easygoing joker has peeled away to reveal…

Well, whatever version of Theo this is. 

The skin around his eyes is crinkled by his smile, his warm laugh rumbling the couch beneath them. Liam finds his own smile easy, comfortable, light. He tucks his feet up beneath him, shifting in a way that drags his gaze away from Theo’s grin and across the telescope sitting off to the side, just out of the awning.

“So which one of you plays that?” He jokes, chin jutting towards the metal instrument. 

Theo’s smile softens, turning fond. “My sister.” He sips at his beer, chuckling. “She lives in a small duplex on the east end. You’d think it’d be easier to see the stars out there, but she insists our roof has one of the best views. I think she just comes by when we practice to ogle our bassist.”

He stretches, torso twisting and arms reaching in an arc above him. His t-shirt rucks up a little at the waist, showing off the band of his boxers over the edge of his jeans, so Liam clears his throat and lifts his gaze to Theo’s wiggling fingers instead. He doesn’t dare to see if the other man notices. 

“Speaking of ogling,” he says, dropping his hands to the pizza box and lifting it, revealing the folders he’d brought up. “What’s say we ogle some candidates?”

They crack open their third beers, and dive in headfirst.

“So there’s five options left,” Theo explains, laying out the folders one by one as he puts the pizza box on the ground beneath the couch. Each one is labelled with thick, dark lettering, showcasing their name at a glance. Theo taps them all in turn as he speaks.

_ Ethan Steiner. _

“He’s still really hard to track, but it’s because he’s never in a city for more than a few hours at a time. Still unsure when his next SFO layover’s going to be, so unless you’re interested in flying out to his home base in Frankfurt…”

“Really?” Liam raises a brow. Like he has the time or money to fly all the way to Germany.

“Didn’t think so.” Theo swipes that folder aside and moves on.

_ Jackson Whittemore. _

“Jackson’s out of town working a really nasty case in DC, but it should be wrapping up in a few weeks, so if we’re still looking by then, we’ll hit him up.”

Next folder is labelled  _ Nolan Holloway. _

“Had to do a little more digging than I thought for a med student, but I found him. Baltimore.”

“Maryland?” Liam blinks. He thinks inexplicably of Garrett.

Theo flips open the folder to a photo of a red-bricked building. Old, sort of fancy. “Johns Hopkins. Just finishing up his MD program.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yep,” Theo nods, popping the  _ p _ at the end of the word a little louder than usual. “Some real cream of the crop in this last batch. Pilot, lawyer, EMT and med student...”

Liam hears the hesitation, the way his sentence drops off slightly. He sees the folder sitting beneath Cora’s, just barely makes out the  _ H _ at the edge of it. “And Hayden?”

“She’s in Yabucoa.”

“ _ Where?” _ Liam stares, slack-jawed. 

“Puerto Rico. Southeastern corner. Her mother’s foundation is helping with the relief efforts, and she’s overseeing the rebuilding of a school.”

He sighs. “When is she coming back?” He sees Theo’s wrinkled nose. “ _ Is _ she coming back?”

“Eventually. She always seems to,” he shrugs, picking up Cora’s folder and effortlessly sliding Hayden’s back beneath the others. “In the meantime, I have Cora.”

Her name brings a smile to Liam’s lips. Despite all her hard edges, Cora had been one of the greatest loves of his life, he thinks. Soft in ways that you’d least expect it, and so damn pretty she should’ve been royalty. Something that ran in the family, he supposed, when he thought of her and Malia sitting together at Thanksgiving at the Hale house and laughing over wine.

“Okay,” he nods. “Let’s do Cora.”

Theo’s brows rise into his hairline, and he barks out a laugh. “Easy, Liam. You haven’t even reunited yet. I think it’s a little early to proposition me with a  _ ménage à trois _ , don’t you?”

His face heats instantly, rewinding his brain to fully process the words he’d just said. The red warmth travels across his cheeks and neck, making him almost uncomfortable as he scowls, grabbing for the grey folder in his hand. “That’s not what I meant, you perv!”

It does nothing to abate the loud, raucous laughter pouring out of the other man. He easily dodges Liam’s swipe, standing up from the couch and brandishing the folder up in the air. Liam follows, way too easy riled, and reaches for it. Theo doesn’t have much height on him, but he has more bulk, and easily keeps himself between the folder and the slightly shorter man.

He leans his large, charming grin into Liam’s grumbling face. “How  _ else _ are you going to thank me for all my hard work tracking down  _ The One _ ?”

Liam groans. “I’m already doing that by keeping unwanted guests from your revolving door of an apartment. Seeing as how it’s impossible for you to hang out with  _ anyone _ without trying to get into their pants.”

“It’s not impossible,” he shrugs, relaxing and sliding the folder into Liam’s hands. His breath ghosts over the shorter man’s cheeks, a tempting mix of beer and pizza. But Liam made himself a promise, and Theo’s not on his list. “It’s just not as much fun.”

Liam rolls his eyes, but finds he doesn’t put as much effort into it as usual. He can tell that Theo’s just pulling at his leg in order to get a reaction, and despite playing right into his hands a moment ago, he’s settled enough not to keep it up. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’ll pick you up after your ten A.M?” 

_ HIST 101: Critical Thinking, History and Zombies _ .

It’s the single silliest course he’s ever taught, but it’s also one of the most fun. As much as he enjoys the Greeks and mid-millenia western civilization, there’s something so freeing about teaching a course that’s at once pop culture as it is history. 

It also means he’s going to be in a good mood when Theo picks him up, itching for whatever he has planned.

“Sounds good.”

* * *

Liam is decidedly not in a good mood. 

He is, however, in a  _ great _ mood. His class got into a very entertaining debate about what the best zombie book to film adaptation was, and what, exactly, made a good zombie-related piece of media. He’d let them all go early, and had found Theo waiting for him in the parking lot, engrossed in a book Liam had recommended. 

And then, the other man had treated  _ him _ to lunch for once. At this food truck on the edge of the Jack London Square, which means they have to drive all the way over to Oakland for it, but within the first bite of his taquitos Liam knows it’s worth it. They’re  _ delicious _ . 

_ “Oh, my god.”  _ It sounds like a prayer, coming off his lips.

“Right?” Theo snickers, shoveling beans into his mouth. “Best in the Bay Area, as promised.”

Liam hums his enthusiastic agreement, devouring the rest of his taquito in a flash and starting on the second. Theo starts moving, eating as he goes, Liam following close behind. They’re barely a half block away when they both finish, having slowed several times to take big bites and work through them, eyes larger than their mouths.

Liam thumps his chest with a fist, suppressing a burp. He glances to Theo, who’s got his arms crossed, leaning against a street lamp with a smirk. He would think the other man’s amusement was directed at him, except for the fact that Theo’s not looking his way. He’s looking at something over Liam’s shoulder.

Slowly, he turns, following his line of sight.

There, standing on the tips of her toes and handing cash to the lady at  _ El Sabrosito _ ’s register is a woman with her brown hair in a tight, high ponytail and wearing an EMT uniform. Her sharp cheekbones are flush with happiness as she smiles at something the cook says to her, and then she steps back so her partner can place their order. 

Liam flicks his gaze back to Theo, mouth open in a question. But he doesn’t need to ask it. 

“They come here every Wednesday for lunch. Cora pays cash, but her partner…”

Liam glances over, and watches as the guy holds his card up and the cashier slides the machine towards him. “You’re scary, you know that?” 

“Yeah, you’re really shaking in your boots,” Theo snorts. He feels a light tap on his shoulder. “Hey, Liam, don’t be mad, okay?”

He frowns, turning to look at him. “Mad about wha—”

Theo’s fist connects with the middle of his face. His knees give out instantly and he goes down hard, hands flying to cover his nose. Every pain synapse and bone in it screams, and he feels the warmth wet of blood almost immediately. He wants to yell, wants to curse and call Theo names, or ask him just what the  _ fuck _ he thinks he’s doing, but he doesn’t really want to taste it.

So he settles for scowling at him from the ground.

Unfortunately, Theo isn’t even looking at him. His eyes are wide-rimmed with panic, and looking up and down the boardwalk, searching. His voice trembles with worry as he shouts: “Help! I need some help over here!”

Liam’s head is swimming, his vision blurring as he resists blinking back tears. He eventually concedes, fluttering his eyelids as he looks down at a knot in the wood plank in front of him, trying to gather his wits. There’s so much pain in his whole face, and the sounds around him warble and distort. He hears more shouting he can’t make out, footsteps and then a warm touch on his shoulder.

“What happened?”

Then Theo’s voice reaches him, higher than normal and tinged with panic. Further away, too, like he’s standing off to the side. “We’d just finished lunch and we were headed back to the car when he tripped right into this pole. He was looking at his phone, and I guess he missed the loose board.”

_ Loose board?  _ Liam was going to show  _ him _ a loose board when this was over… 

The warm hand moves to his chin, delicate fingers tilting his face up, and he’s met with a pair of gorgeous brown eyes. That widen immediately upon seeing him, accompanied by a pleasant smile. 

“Liam?” Cora says, face bright and surprised.

He hums a greeting at her, trying not to open his mouth, but instead it just sounds like a miserable groan. She huffs out a cute little laugh, dimpling her cheeks. 

“Always getting into some kind of trouble, huh?” She shakes her head, pulling a handkerchief from the little pack at her waist and handing it to him. “C’mon, the van isn’t far. Try and keep your head up.”

She wraps an arm around his waist and hauls him to his feet. He presses the cloth tightly to his face, wincing as his nose stings in protest. He looks skyward, blinking beneath the sun. As they start off down the boardwalk, away from the food trucks and crowd, Cora calls over her shoulder. “Can you go tell my partner where I’m headed? And tell him not to eat my food on the way back!”

If Theo responds—and Liam’s sure she’s talking to Theo—he doesn’t hear it, ambling slowly towards the parking lot and keeping his eyes ahead. 

“Your friend will catch up,” she says, low in his ear. 

“Not my friend,” Liam mumbles, but it’s muffled by his hand and the kerchief. 

“Hmm?” Cora glances at him, brow raised. He doesn’t repeat himself, the words causing a fresh wave of pain to roll down his face. He just shakes his head, and lets her lead him. 

The van is the first thing he sees when they make it to the lot barely a minute later, and a wave of relief rolls through him. She pops the back open and sits him down, grabbing for a first aid kid. 

“You’re gonna have a nice shiner in the morning,” Cora says as she checks him over, peeling the bloody cloth away and setting it down next to him.

“Wouldn’t be the first,” Liam snorts, then regrets it immediately when pain flares in the middle of his face.

She pokes and prods lightly at the already bruising skin around his nose. “Well, the good news is, it’s not broken.”

“Oh, yay.” Liam tries and fails to sound excited. It still brings a hint of a smile to her lips, so he considers it a win. “And the bad news?”

She pulls a large triangle-shaped bandaid with rounded edges from the kit. At least, he thinks it’s a bandaid. It looks fairly thick, with a weird sort of bend in the middle. She holds it up for him to see, offering him a sympathetic grin as he realizes it’s made of metal. “You’re gonna need a nose splint.”

He can already hear Theo’s endless jokes and nose-related puns, let alone what his students are going to say. Alex from his HIST 320 class is  _ definitely _ going to point it out; the kid doesn’t have much of a filter. He groans at just the thought. 

“It’s shitty, I know. You can buy a thermoplastic one at CVS later, they’re more comfortable,” Cora laughs, and he watches as she meticulously wipes and cleans the outside of his nose without causing him too much discomfort. She then peels off the adhesive and quirks a brow at him. “This one might hurt a little, so count to three?”

He chuckles, tilting his head. “You know I’m not a little kid, Cora.”

The shift in her bedside manner is immediate, and she turns serious. “Liam.”

He raises his hands, palms flat. “Okay, okay!” He laughs, nodding. “One… two… th—”

Liam bites down on a yelp as she surges forward, applying the splint directly to the bridge of his nose. It’s cold, biting at his skin, and the bruised bone protests sharply. He hisses out a breath between his teeth as she steps back, grinning triumphantly. “See? That wasn’t so bad!”

“You went before three!”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” she snickers. She steps back, crossing her arms and tilting her head to asses her work. Or him, maybe, considering her eyes roam much further than his nose. Her high ponytail swishes with the movement. “It’s not so bad, actually. Kind of cute.”

Liam clears his throat awkwardly, flushing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods, grinning widely. Cora ducks her head into the truck, and he catches a whiff of pomegranate off her hair. When she pulls back, she’s got a little compact mirror in her hand. “I think it’s working for you, honestly.”

“Really?” Liam reaches out when she offers it to him, squinting down at it as his reflection appears. 

In the bright sunlight, the thing looks almost blindingly white. And very large, and very hideous. It looks like a growth on his nose, or maybe a large, swollen wart.

He groans. “Cora! I look like Squidward!”

He flicks a scowl at her, and finds her laughing, arms wrapped around her middle. 

“Oh my god,” she cackles, and snorts a little as she breathes in. “You do!”

“I can’t wear this,” Liam gripes, snapping the compact mirror shut. “My students will never let me hear the end of it!”

The woman quiets down a little, remnants of laughter still shaking her fingers as she wipes at tears of joy. “Students?” She grins, and it’s nearly as dazzling as the sun’s reflection off his stupid splint. “Always knew you’d make a good teacher.”

He finds the heat in his cheeks is no longer from embarrassment. He’d met Cora working at a kids’ camp the summer before college, and they’d hit it off as co-counselors of the same bunk. They’d ended up reconnecting a few months later at the same school. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, of history. I teach at San Fran State.”

“I remember that campus,” she says, and she sounds almost fond. She’d been a Volleyball player, one of the best on the varsity team, and she’d probably been to his school tons of times for away games. “Well, the bits I saw of it, anyway.”

“It’s a nice university,” Liam nods. And then, because he’s feeling brave, despite the way this conversation started, he adds: “I’d love to give you the full tour, if you want.”

Cora’s brows rise with her surprise, but her lips curve into an impressed smile. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

They manage to exchange numbers before Theo and her partner arrive with food and by that time, Liam’s forgotten all about how angry he’d been at his neighbor. Especially because for once, it seems to have worked out in his favour. On the way home, they deliberate over text and make plans for coffee on Cora’s day off on Friday, at Liam’s favourite place in the heart of campus.

He thinks he might even forgive Theo for punching him in the face, really.

At least until they get home, and the asshole in question makes four nose-related jokes back to back, including asking Liam to  _ please acseptum  _ his apology. It results in Liam nearly kicking him out of his apartment, relenting only when Theo offers to order Red Jade Chinese as both an apology and a celebration for a mission success. 

A success that puts a bounce in Liam’s step through the rest of his week, one that isn’t even deterred by his students poking fun at his nose splint or making up ridiculous reasons he might’ve needed to get it when he refuses to tell them why. Because he’s certainly not going to use Theo’s excuse, and he’s  _ definitely  _ not going to tell them the real reason.

And even if Liam realizes, when he meets with Cora for their coffee date and tour, that there aren’t any sparks there to rekindle the way he’d hoped, he still has a good time. He still enjoys himself, walking arm in arm as he gives her a history lesson about every old, intricate building on campus, packed to the brim with odd or interesting facts as she listens intently to every word. He’s still delighted when she asks to sit in on his afternoon class, to see him in action, that bright young man from summer camp all those years ago. 

When they go out for dinner after and Cora tells him about the pitbull she rescued from a shelter two years ago, Tenaya, who has her whole heart. About monthly dinners with Malia and Derek and Laura that somehow always end in some sort of eating or drinking competition. About her maid of honour dress for her cousin’s wedding, and the kickass bachelorette she’s going to plan. About this guitarist she met a few weeks ago while out for drinks with her partner and his roommates.

In turn, Liam ends up pouring his heart out. About Mason and Corey, about crossing her cousin and Kira at cake-tasting, about Brett and Garrett and everything between them and her. She thinks it endearing, if not a little silly, that he’s tracking down his exes to see if he already has found his other half. She’s flattered, but tells him, just like everyone else, that not everyone’s love stories are long ones like her cousin’s and his best friend’s. 

Sometimes, they happen suddenly and all at once, when you least expect it. And that’s what makes them exciting. 

Cora pats his hand and reassures him that his sister was right, when she’d said there was still time, that he’d find someone. When they part ways, Liam tucks her into the Lyft he ordered her back to Oakland, despite her protests that she could just take the BART, it’s with the promise of meeting up for coffee again soon. 

And despite this reunion not having earned him a date to Mason and Corey’s wedding, or a girlfriend, there’s still a bounce in his step as he heads home. Because no matter what, Cora’s right. His sister is right. 

Somewhere out there, there’s someone for him. He just has to find them.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Four months to wedding._ **

“Can’t believe Corey passed on this one,” Liam says, tone absolutely reflecting how bored out of his skull he is. Every fucking card in front of him looks the same. Every one. The little place setting example cards all list different fonts on them, but Liam swears to god that they’re all the same. 

“Oh, dude, no,” Mason says, flipping through a second catalogue in the seat next to him. He hums appreciatively as he flicks to the next page, and adds a sticky note to one of the little cards. “He’s the  _ worst _ at picking fonts. His proposal banner was almost in  _ Papyrus _ , man.”

Liam squints at his best friend dumbly. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Mason glances up at him, looking genuinely concerned. “Don’t you work at a university?”

“I’ve told you this before. They all use the same font on their essays. It’s a requirement,” Liam sighs, slumping in his seat and looking at the ceiling. “Nothing has changed since we were in school, Mase.”

“Well, one can dream they stopped being stuffy and boring,” the other man shrugs, before pushing his catalogue to the side and grabbing Liam’s, instead. “Ooh, this one’s nice!”

Liam hums noncommittally, and Mason lets out a little  _ tsk _ in response.

“I told you I’m not good at this sort of thing,” Liam says in his defence, tearing his eyes down from the ceiling and levelling it at his best friend. 

“I don’t know why I thought you would be—your handwriting is nearly as bad as Corey’s,” Mason snickers. 

“I resent that.”

“I’m sure your students do too.”

“Hey!”

Mason’s laugh is loud enough to draw the attention of the young lady working the front desk, who startles a split second later when she doesn’t hear Lydia and Corey walk in. The two breeze past, sidling up to their table with ease. 

“How’d it go with the cellist?” Mason asks, looking up at them.

Corey drops a light kiss to his head. “She was so good! We’re absolutely hiring her.”

“Awesome!” Mason looks an arm around his fiancé’s waist, leaning forward to grin up at Lydia. “Tell Derek we owe him for the recommendation.”

“On the house,” Lydia winks, leaning her hip against the table. “We’re just lucky he had at least one girlfriend in his life that was decent.”

“Hey now,” Corey knocks his elbow against hers. “Two.”

“Three if you count Stiles,” Liam snickers. He’s feeling particularly mouthy today, given that he’s been staring at words for the last hour, so he continues: “How’s that gonna work, anyway? Do you put him as your plus one, and he puts Derek, who puts you? Do you even get a plus one when you’re kind of automatically a plus two?”

“Liam!” Mason shoots him a look, but Lydia’s laugh is warm and rich, like honey.

“Please hire me to plan your wedding one day, Liam,” Lydia tells him, but her tone is fond, almost like a mother half-heartedly scolding their child. “You clearly don’t know how it works.”

He clamps his mouth shut with an audible grumble. “Clearly not, since I’ve been flipping through fifty of the same cards for an eternity, here.”

“You have not,” Mason rolls his eyes, then finds his sticky note in the binder Liam had been perusing. He slides it next to his own binder, and points at the two place cards. “Thoughts?”

“Definitely this one,” Lydia points, her nail tapping against the plastic cover the card is sitting in. She doesn’t even hesitate, and Liam leans forward in his seat to stare back and forth between the two cards and her, dumbfounded.

“How?” He whispers. “It’s the same thing.”

“It’s okay, Liam,” Lydia smiles kindly. “It’s not your fault you’re required to look at nothing but Times New Roman all day.”

His forehead pinches and he opens his mouth to bite back, but then his phone rings. The tune it belts out is very familiar, and he scrambles to dig it from his pocket. 

“Mr Mistoffelees?” The redhead raises a brow. “From Cats the musical?”

“It’s my sister’s favourite,” Liam shrugs, looking down to see his screen lit up by her face. His finger hovers the accept button as his chair scrapes backwards, away from the table. 

“Named her cat after it, too,” Mason explains, and he sounds almost sad. “Bad taste is genetic, clearly.”

Liam sticks his tongue out at his best friend before stepping away from them, swiping to answer. “Hey.”

_ “Oh, thank god. I couldn’t remember if you were in class.” _

“Nope,” Liam tells her, jabbing a finger in his free ear to hear her better. She sounds slightly out of breath, and there’s a lot of wind in the background. “I’m at the stationery place with Mason, but I think we’re done for today. What do you need?”

_ “How close is that to your apartment?” _

“Not far, why?”

_ “I need to use your washroom.” _

Liam snickers, instantly. There’s only one reason she’d need to use his washroom, and not a public restroom. “Do you need to number twoooo?” He whispers in a sing-song voice, careful to not let the others hear. He doesn’t want to embarrass Lyana  _ that _ badly. 

_ “Why do you have the maturity of a five year old?” _

“Because I’m your little brother, and it’s in the contract,” he says proudly. “Let yourself in, I’ll be home in ten.”

_ “Ohmygodthankyou.” _

* * *

Liam gets home nine minutes and thirty two seconds later. As he takes the stairs two at a time up to his floor, he wonders how close his sister had been when she’d called. He wonders briefly if he beat her home. He certainly hadn’t been walking a little faster than normal to try and accomplish that, oh no. He absolutely hadn’t planned on barricading himself in the bathroom before she got there and laughing through a closed door at her, like he used to when they were kids.

He’s cackling at the memory as he slides the key home into the lock and finds no resistance as the door swings open, meaning his sister has in fact beaten him here.

Or, more accurately,  _ Theo _ and his sister have beaten him here.

Theo, who’s seated on the couch next to said sister, with his guitar in his lap and a pleasant, polite smile on his face. Lyana, in contrast, looks wildly uncomfortable.

Theo, whose lap is all kinds of bare, the same distinct shade of richly tanned skin as the rest of his muscled body. Much of which is very visible and  _ very _ on display from where Liam is standing in his entryway, keys suspended halfway to their hook in mid-air, seeing as how his shock has completely frozen him to the spot.

Lyana smiles thinly at him, while Theo lifts an arm to wave. “Hi,” they both say at once, the former’s face pinching into a scowl.

“Hey,” Liam greets them carefully, slowly closing the door behind him. He looks between them, swallowing thickly as his eyes lock to Theo’s and try very hard to stay there. “Please tell me that you’re not naked on my couch next to my sister.”

Theo’s smile turns dazzlingly vibrant as he lifts the guitar, revealing a pair of bright blue boxer-briefs. 

“Oh thank god,” Liam releases a breath.

One he chokes on almost immediately when Lyana chimes in. “He says he can’t play nude. The guitar gets too cold against his penis.” Liam can see the white of her knuckles, clutched tightly together on her lap. “Which is somehow a sentence I’d never thought I’d be happy to utter aloud.”

“I’m a patron of new experiences. You’re welcome,” Theo says happily, dipping his head towards her. Somehow, her scowl deepens, which Liam finds at once terrifying and impressive. He needs to do something about this, and fast. 

His words, however, fail him. Because instead he ends up asking: “Why’d you bring your guitar over?”

“I figured I’d do some writing to pass the time,” Theo shrugs, motioning to the empty notebook on the coffee table in front of him. “I was pretty uninspired until I snooped through those paintings you keep hidden away. I was just about to start writing when your sister walked in.”

He strums two chords, looking perfectly comfortable as Liam processes the information. He takes a deep breath, curling and uncurling his fingers in an attempt to calm himself. If looks could kill, Theo would absolutely have been vaporized by now, and Liam’s not even sure which one of them would be blamed for it at this point. 

“Well, maybe you could go to your own apartment to write, where you’ll be alone and undisturbed,” Lyana points out, tone bordering on murderous.

“Impossible, I’m afraid.” And Theo sounds so put upon, that Liam almost forgets to be angry as a laugh bubbles up beneath the surface. “You’re stuck with me.”

Liam shakes his head, letting out an exasperated chuckle. “She has to poo.”

“Liam!” No, scratch that, now she  _ definitely _ sounds murderous. 

Theo’s laugh is loud, but soothing, and it eases the tension out of Liam’s chest. He finds himself grinning, his disdain familiar and almost fond. “Who is it this time?”

The smile on Theo’s lips is dangerously pleased. “Harley? I guess this one’s a late sleeper.”

“Wait,” Lyana says slowly, glancing between the two men. The look on her face looks more displeased by the second. “Are you hiding out in here from someone in your apartment?”

“I am,” Theo nods, strumming another chord lightly. “The woman I brought home last night, to be specific.”

She makes a face, disappointment clear as she looks to her brother. “And you  _ let _ him?”

Liam shrugs, face scrunching into an awkward wince. “Remember how I said I was tracking down my exes?”

He sees the whites of her eyes widen as she puts two and two together, looking between them with shock this time instead of suspicion. “Seriously?” Lyana raises a brow at her brother, motioning to Theo. “ _ This _ is who’s helping you?”

“I’ll have you know I’m quite a catch,” Theo winks. 

“Barf,” Lyana scowls. “You’re the opposite of my type.”

“Hmm, submissive is more your thing, huh?” Theo clicks his tongue, sounding only a little disappointed. Mostly he sounds amused, using the same tone of voice he does when he says things to get a rise out of Liam. “Bummer.”

“Oh my god,” Liam groans, burying his face in his hands. “Please stop hitting on my sister.”

“Actually,” Lyana says, with a tone of finality as she stands, hands on her hips. “The real problem is that you’ve got a dick.”

Liam inhales so sharply he wheezes, and he thumps at his chest to derail the cough that follows. Theo, meanwhile, sits calmly where he rests, brows rising far into his hairline. “Well,” he says, extending the word as though there’s an h in there. “That explains a lot.”

He can see the argument building on his sister’s tongue, her fingers curling into tight little fists at her sides. He acts fast, stepping forward and holding his hand out to Theo. “Keys. Now.”

The other man looks away from Lyana, happy smile spreading across his lips. He leans forward, snatching them off the coffee table beside his notebook and tossing them over. Liam catches them deftly, and turns on his heel, headed for the door he’d come through minutes ago. He snags a coat off the rack as he bustles past it and across the hall. 

He fumbles only slightly with the stubborn lock before the door swings open for him. Liam’s been here enough that it’s almost instinct to toss the keys into the little ceramic bowl at the front door, the one that’s painted with misshapen flowers and swirls. He’s always wondered where it came from, because he doubts that Theo is a DIY kind of guy.

He scans the couch and bed, and frowns when he doesn’t find the unwanted guest. He’d think that maybe they’d have left, had he not seen the purple heels he’d walked past on his way in. So he pretends to undo his coat as she steps further into the apartment, doing his best not to look right, towards the kitchen. He assumes it’s the only place they could be, since it’s the only room he can’t see from the front entrance.

He’s rewarded a moment later when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye, over by the fridge. 

Movement made up of miles of dark brown skin, and silky curves. Sitting squarely on the kitchen counter, slender legs crossed and arms posed like a spread in a magazine shoot. A very  _ naked _ magazine shoot.

“Gah!” Liam yelps, and it’s like déjà vu all over again as one hand flies up to cover his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“Who are you?” The girl almost sounds offended, beneath her very obvious confusion.

“Liam,” he says, resolving to stare at the ceiling instead of covering his face like a child. “I  _ live  _ here.” He huffs out a breath between clenched teeth, trying to sound angry and betrayed. He manages a voice crack on the last word. “With my  _ fiancé _ . Who are  _ you?!” _

“Your—your fiancé?!” She says, and now she sounds scared. Guilty. Liam almost feels kind of bad. “Oh my god.  _ Oh. My. God.  _ I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

“He didn’t  _ say anything?” _ And Liam knows he sounds dramatic now, but he wants to hurry this up. His neck is kinking. “That  _ asshole! _ That complete pig!”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl repeats, but this time she sounds closer. He hears shuffling, the patter of bare feet against the vinyl as she crosses the room. 

“Please,” Liam scoffs, aiming somewhat blindly for the couch as he throws himself onto it. There’s a rustling of clothes. “Just go!”

“I know, I’m so sorry! I’m going. I’m just—I just need my dress,” she stammers. He hears her stumble towards the front door, and the quick  _ clack-clack _ of one heeled shoe hitting the tile after the other. A few more clacks and the door screeches open, then shuts with a dramatic slam.

Liam finally looks away from the ceiling, pulling his phone out of his pocket from where it’s buzzing. There’s an angry emoji from his sister, followed by a poop one.

He chuckles, counting to thirty-five before the front door re-opens, and Theo comes strolling into his apartment. He looks up and watches as the guy plucks a fuzzy plaid robe off the hook, sliding into it. Liam scowls at him. 

“You should probably wash your kitchen counter. Her bare ass was on it.”

“I mean, at least I know where it’s been?” Theo offers lightly. 

“Too much, thank you,” Liam wrinkles his nose. “But while we’re sharing—my sister?”

He sees the smirk build, but watches the other man let the opportunity to twist Liam’s words pass for once. He’s grateful, though he’d never admit it. “Still there. Presumably in the bathroom now, though.”

“She’s going to kill me when she’s done,” Liam groans, thumping his head back against the couch.

“All the more reason to stay and hang out,” Theo points out, headed for the kitchen. He ignores the countertop and heads instead for the fridge, surfacing with a carton of milk. He sniffs at it, shrugs, and then heads for a bowl and the box of cereal in the corner. As he pours, he glances at Liam over his shoulder. “So… those paintings.”

Liam sighs. He should’ve known better than to think that Theo would let it go. After all, he brings up the paintings every time he’s over. He shouldn’t really be surprised at this point that after weeks, he’s caved and just looked at them again himself.

“Ask whatever it is you want to ask,” he tells the other man, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back in his seat. The couch is surprisingly comfy for something that dangerously resembles a futon. 

“You’re pretty talented.” Theo leans back against the counter, scooping up a spoonful of cheerios. “How come they’re just in your apartment gathering dust?”

“As opposed to what?” Liam quirks a brow.

The other man’s shoulders roll in a slight shrug as he chews. Once he swallows, he fixes Liam with genuine curiosity. “Selling them? Displaying them in a gallery? They’re amazing. Your character studies are something else, Liam.”

He feels his cheeks heat. “They’re not  _ that _ great,” he laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck. “And I don’t know… Gallery slots are expensive, and selling them, well… I just don’t think it would feel right, considering.”

“Considering?” Theo frowns, the word slightly muffled by a mouthful of cereal.

Liam shifts in his seat, his prolonged time in the spotlight rapidly making him uncomfortable. He doesn’t talk about his paintings much. Not because he’s embarrassed or afraid, but because they’re his. Not his alone, because the subjects are all real people he’s met, but still… uniquely his. A sort of intimate, private hobby that takes him out of his home and his comfort zone and into parts of the city he wouldn’t otherwise normally frequent. To meet people he’d never take the time to speak with in his daily life, were it not for his little pet project. 

But Theo’s staring at him intently, expectant, lips slightly parted as though he’s midway through an inhale and waiting on Liam’s answer to finish taking a breath. There’s something so genuine about the interest on his face, mixed with curiosity, that the words fall from Liam’s mouth without him thinking about them much.

“They’re homeless people,” he says, so light it’s nearly a whisper. “Some of them I meet on the BART, but the majority of them are from the Tenderloin.”

The Tenderloin was a 50 square block neighbourhood of downtown, home to a culture thick in drugs, dive bars and loud nightlife, some of the most amazing street art Liam’s seen in his life—and roughly 49% of the city’s homeless population. 

He watches the surprise wash over Theo’s features, lips parted and eyes wide. The other man sets his bowl of half-eaten cereal down, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes never leave Liam’s. “Really? All those people?”

Liam nods, corner of his lip curving up wistfully. “Every one. I can tell your their names, how long they’ve been on the street, what their home corner is. I don’t go as often as I should, but I try and take a weekend out of every month to bring them food, and blankets, and in return, they tell me their stories. So many of them have stories, Theo, but nobody to listen.”

“Liam, that’s amazing,” Theo says, wandering over. He takes a seat next to him, eyes bright. “Not everyone can do that, you know.”

“Paint strangers?” Liam frowns. 

“No,” he shakes his head. He sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon, or maybe been holding it. “Be kind to others. For very little, if anything in return.”

“Oh.” The word sounds sort of thick on his tongue, and Liam can feel a blush creeping across his cheeks. “It’s really no big deal.”

“It is.” When Theo smiles, it stretches ear to ear. “I’m sure to them it absolutely is.”

—

A week later, Liam finds himself in the southern end of San Francisco. It’s not a section of the city he frequents often, if at all, but then, it’s not like he expected to be meeting Ethan Steiner for dinner ever again either and yet here he is.

Ethan, who’s been in and out of the city (and the country) for months, going wherever the wind (and the plane flying in it) took him. His layovers in San Fran have been few and far between, and his schedule just hasn’t matched up with anything he and Theo have come up with while tracking down his former flames. 

He has, however, validated Theo’s decision to reactivate Liam’s Facebook by sending him a message two nights ago, when he’d landed in the city. He’d said that the website had pinged him when he’d been online, pointing out that Liam was nearby and that they hadn’t connected in a long while. 

It hadn’t been wrong, and Ethan was apparently been feeling particularly nostalgic, so he’d messaged Liam, asking what he’d been up to. He’d sent him a photo he still had buried on his page of the younger man looking out at Alcatraz from the Golden Gate Bridge, sun shining down on his peaceful, smiling face. And then Ethan had asked, if it weren’t too much trouble, if he could see said happy face while he was in town.

And so, Liam has come to meet him, at a restaurant half a block from Ethan’s apartment. The pilot told him he’d have loved to go visit the bridge instead, for old time’s sake, but he needed to remain close to the airport in case of flight changes. 

A pity, he tells Liam over their first beer, because he reminisces about the bridge every time he flies past in on his descent into SFO International. He thinks of the spray from the Pacific on his face and the warmth of the sun on his skin. Sometimes he even thinks of Liam and their time together. 

Liam’s flattered. Really, he is. But he realizes somewhere around beer three what this night out is—or rather, what Ethan’s looking for. And it’s unfortunate, because the years of tropical island layovers and sunny, sandy beaches have done the man wonders. He could stand to gaze at him for a little longer.

But that’s not what Liam’s looking for. 

When Ethan asks him over to continue catching up, Liam tells him he has an early class (which he does) and that while he had a great night (which he did), he’s not interested in anything else. 

Ethan’s as charming as ever as he pays for dinner, refusing to let Liam lift a finger since he came all the way out here just for him. He thanks him for a wonderful evening, bids him goodnight and drops a goodbye kiss on his cheek as he tucks Liam into the Lyft he bought for him. He tries not to be disappointed on his way home, but he can’t really help it.

Not when it’s been one dead end after another on his silly journey back through his exes. 

Theo’s still up when he gets back to his apartment. He gets a text the moment he walks through his front door, asking how it went. Liam only sends a shrug emoji back, then tosses his phone onto the couch as he stomps towards his bedroom. By the time he changes into sweats and a loose tee, Theo’s at his door. With popcorn and the latest Marvel flick on a USB.

They get comfortable on Liam’s couch, feet propped on the coffee table, and spend the rest of the evening ranking MCU actors by their hotness. They have fairly opposite tastes, but no more so than the debate of Evans vs Hemsworth, for which they literally have to pause the movie to hash it out. And even then, they agree to disagree. 

When Liam crawls into bed a few hours later, it’s with a smile on his face and feeling lighter than he had when he’d gotten home. Like maybe his night hadn’t been quite such a waste after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Three months to wedding._ **

_ “I’m just saying, there’s a store half a block from campus. You could pick some up on the way home,”  _ Theo tells him over the phone.

Liam laughs, shaking his head. “No way, I’m not feeding your flavoured popcorn obsession. Go out and get some yourself.”

He’s on his way back from a potential bachelor party venue, having criticized the place with Tracy for about thirty minutes before deciding they’d pass on it. 

_ “But you’re closerrrr.”  _ Theo’s whine makes him sound all of five years old, and barely masks what sounds like splashing in the background.  _ “And I’m busy.” _

“Busy?” Liam frowns, glancing left and right before he crosses the intersection. He hears another splash. “What could you possibly be doing at 3 in the afternoon? You have no life.”

_ “First of all, I’m offended, even if you are right,”  _ Theo says, and then he grunts, and this time Liam  _ definitely _ hears the splash.  _ “Second, I’m enjoying a nice, relaxing bath.” _

“What?” Liam’s never been more confused. “But you don’t have a full tub in your apartment, just a stand up shower.”

His phone buzzes loudly in his pocket, and he startles. He tugs on his headset cord to help free it from his jeans, and tilts the screen up to see an iMessage notification.  _ Theo has sent a picture. _

“I swear,” Liam grumbles, swiping to open his phone as he continues down the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment. “If this something unsolicited, I’m going to kick you in the balls when I get back.”

_ “So violent,”  _ Theo’s voice whispers in his ears, tone somewhere between teasing and flirtatious. Liam ignores it, seeing as how he’s gotten used to the other man hitting on him every now and then. Like it’s second nature to him.  _ “Just open it, chicken.” _

Liam scowls, despite the fact that the other man can’t see him, and swipes the message open, unlocking his phone. 

Theo’s grinning face stares back at him. He’s definitely naked, but the only thing that’s visible is the upper half of his bare chest. Everything else disappears into water that’s a swirling expanse of blues, purples and silvers that glitter like stars in the tub around him. Behind him, Liam can make out a tablet seated on the edge of the toilet, a Spotify playlist open and playing. 

His pulse jumps as recognition dawns on him.

From the hand towel hanging next to the bath, to the shampoo, conditioner and  _ razor _ in the corner of the tub, to the freaking bath bomb itself. It’s a galaxy one that his sister left behind the last time she’d crashed at his place while her roommate had  _ company _ over. 

And that’s his tablet with  _ his _ music. 

“Are you in my tub?!” Liam exclaims, eyes wide. Theo just laughs, the sound warm and cozy in Liam’s ears, through the headphones. “That’s my sister’s bath bomb!”

_ “It’s pretty dope, I’ve got to admit,” _ Theo hums appreciatively, and Liam feels his blood pressure spike. 

“You’re going to get glitter all over my fucking apartment,” he hisses. Lyana had done so last time, because when she’d gotten out all the silver, starry flecks had stayed pressed to her skin. And as she’d dried off, they’d fallen from her skin and onto his floor.  _ Everywhere. _

_ “Don’t worry, I’ll clean up real nice and I won’t track it anywhere…,” _ Theo says in an almost sing-song voice.  _ “ _ **_If_ ** _ you stop and get me a bag of Thai Sweet Chili popcorn.” _

Liam slows his pace, skidding to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. The guy behind him curses as he nearly runs into him, glaring over his shoulder as he stalks past. “Really? Blackmail?”

_ “I prefer to call it creative leverage.” _ He can  _ hear _ the smirk in the other man’s voice.

“Of course you do,” Liam huffs. He turns on his heel and backtracks to the last street corner, taking a left. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

_ “What would you do without me, though?” _

“Probably not spend thirty dollars on fucking popcorn,” Liam grumbles.

* * *

He’s grumpy by the time he gets back to his apartment. The woman in line ahead of him had taken three fucking years to order her popcorn, and she’d gotten like six flavours. But he’d told Theo he’d get it for him, and so he’d stayed in line, waiting, surrounded by a bunch of loud, sweaty children. There’d been some sort of field trip.

It means that he fully plans on tossing the bag at Theo when he walks in, and telling him to go away. He’s pretty sure his patience is far too thin to put up with the asshole’s antics today. Especially if he’s still in his fucking tub.

When he walks in, however, he’s surprised to see his tune changes slightly. Well, it softens. Somewhat. 

Because Theo is out of the bath, fully dressed in sweats and a large yellow hoodie, and waiting for him on the couch. With two beers in hand and  _ Age of Ultron _ paused and ready on his TV. They’ve been working their way through the Marvel films in order, prepping for the new one. Liam finds it kind of nice, a good way to de-stress after a long day at work or planning wedding things. He grins at Liam when he walks in.

“Welcome home, honey!” Theo says, voice dramatically high. He snickers at his own antics. “Did you bring dinner?”

“This isn’t dinner.” Liam holds up the popcorn bag, tone scolding. He tosses it to Theo, then toes off his sneakers, dropping his keys off as he steps into the living room. “And you’re far from a trophy husband.”

“Exc _ use _ me,” Theo gasps, pressing his beer bottle against his chest, over his heart. “I’m absolutely hot enough to be a trophy husband! And you bring home all the bacon.”

“Except you’re older,” Liam points out, coming over and dropping into the seat next to him. 

“Barely,” Theo snorts. He’s already got the bag open and his first fistful in hand. Liam glares at him sideways, and he quickly lifts himself from the couch and sprints for the kitchen to get bowls. Last time he’d cheered too loudly when the Guardians had saved the galaxy that he’d dropped the bag and gotten popcorn all over Liam’s living room. 

“See, by definition…,” Liam tracks his journey back to the couch, shit-eating grin snaking its way across his lips as Theo throws him a look. It’s such a rare sight, for Theo to be the one scowling at him. It causes a delighted little flutter in Liam’s chest at finally having the upper hand. “I think that means  _ I  _ have to be the trophy husband.”

“I hate being married to a teacher,” Theo groans dramatically, sinking himself into the couch cushion forcefully. “So literal about things.”

Liam laughs, mood considerably lifted. He leans forward and presses play, then gets comfortable in his seat with his beer in one hand, and his bowl of popcorn in the other.

Neither one of them remember the movie very well, so they settle into companionable silence, only opening up debate occasionally or cracking jokes when something seems a little far fetched. Typically, Theo asks him all sorts of questions when they watch Marvel movies. He’s a big DC fanboy, particularly when it comes to any of the Bat’s kids, but he doesn’t touch Marvel very often. So sometimes, he questions Liam on the source material, knowing he’s got several boxes of Marvel comics tucked into protective sheets and boxes beneath his bed.

This time, though, he remains relatively quiet. 

Mostly, Liam notices, when the Maximoff siblings are on screen. He’d given Theo the cliff notes at the end of the  _ Winter Soldier _ , when they’d made their brief cameos, but he’d expected more questions as they came into the spotlight this time around. He’d expected to have to gripe about how they couldn’t call them mutants in the MCU, or anything else that ticked him off. 

Instead, he watches as Theo’s eyes intently track every scene they’re in, a sparkle of wonder in his eyes. He chews his popcorn quietly, listening carefully, fully drawn in by two misfit siblings and their journey together. Their love for one another. Their willingness to do anything for each other. 

Liam doesn’t put it together until Wanda feels her brother die, when he sees the tears glisten in Theo’s eyes. When he sees him swallow thickly, lower lip trembling ever so slightly. He remembers Theo’s story, weeks ago, standing in his apartment when they’d started searching for his exes. About his childhood and his sister and them surviving, together. It strikes a familiar chord somewhere deep, and his chest feels restricted, like he’s holding in a breath too tightly.

“Hey, Theo?” Liam whispers, trying very hard not to break the moment. 

“Hm?” The other man hums softly, still staring at the screen. The light flickers across his eyes, and even from the side Liam can see it light up the green of them. He doesn’t want to pause, doesn’t want to do anything that might unsettle the peaceful, quiet spell that’s fallen over the room. But still, he feels compelled to ask... 

“I’m uh—I’m going to the Tenderloin tomorrow. Taking a small canvas, some food and basic supplies. Do you, um, do you want to come?”

Theo turns to look at him, and there’s something unreadable in his expression. Something that glitters in his eyes, and that sits beneath the soft, barely curved smile on his lips. 

“Yeah,” he says gently, his nod almost imperceptible. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

* * *

Liam wakes in a good mood two mornings later. He’d spent a few more hours than normal in the Tenderloin yesterday, talking to the people on its streets. Listening and painting, while Theo strummed soft tunes on the guitar he’d brought along. He’d introduced the musician to so many stories and faces that Liam knows like the back his hand, having done his best to weave it into every stroke. Theo had watched as so many of them had greeted Liam with welcoming smiles, apparently even recognized some from Liam’s paintings. 

He’d even introduced Theo to Seymour, a former resident of the streets and the neighbourhood’s unofficial mayor. The man had taken them on one of his famous walking tours, the very thing that had gotten Liam interested in it all nearly two years ago. Theo had learned the history, the sights and sounds of the neighbourhood and Seymour had told him all about his organization, Code Tenderloin. The non-profit’s purpose was to help people off the streets by teaching them marketable skills and worked with many of the ever-growing tech companies in the area to secure them steady jobs. 

It had been a lot, but Theo had taken everything in stride. He’d listened and watched with rapt attention, awed by the sheer magnitude of a complex world he’d never know existed just outside his front door. He’d even picked up some musical tips from one of the neighborhood’s oldest residents, Marcus, a man who swore he’d once toured with the Beatles. 

Afterwards, they’d gone home and blown the dust off Theo’s old GameCube to play a few rounds of Smash Bros. They’d made plans to meet the next day at a clinic in Oakland, at noon, for one of the remaining people on Liam’s list—Nolan. One of the most meaningful relationships Liam had ever had, because it had been with one of his best and oldest friends. Nolan had been soft, and kind, and had never failed to make Liam smile.

But they had gone separate ways freshman year of college and it hadn’t worked out. It was just his luck that part of the young man’s medical program involved some sort of internship, and he’d chosen to come back to San Francisco, closer to home, to complete it.

He wasn’t sure why they weren’t going over there together, but he’d bid Theo goodnight and collapsed into bed with a smile on, falling asleep almost instantly.

And now here he is, well rested and excitement buzzing beneath his skin as he stands outside the clinic. There’s a large sign out front declaring flu shots can be had within. His fingers grip the two cooling coffees in his hands tightly, eyes darting this way and that down the street as they look for any sign of Theo in the bustling crowd around him. 

When he finally spots him, it’s certainly not what Liam expects, because the man isn’t alone—he’s walking alongside a child.

A little boy who can’t be older than six or seven, with strawberry blonde curls and the roundest little cheeks. He’s got light up sneakers, and he’s looking up at Theo with the biggest grin, their fingers twined together. 

There’s an unexpected twist in Liam’s stomach as he looks at them that he can’t place. Something that flutters deeper as he spots the softness of Theo’s eyes and happy curve of his lips. Even moreso when he hears the gentle tone with which Theo speaks to the kid. 

“I promise we’ll go for ice cream after, okay champ?” Theo chuckles. “Just don’t tell your mom.”

“Okay!” The little boy’s grin is ecstatic, with a gap where one of his front teeth should be, and his bright green eyes—like Theo’s—slide over to Liam as they slow down. “Hi!”

“Hi,” Liam smiles, and the palms of his hands almost feel clammy, wrapped tightly around the two coffee cups. He has so many questions sitting at the ready on his tongue from  _ who _ to  _ when _ to  _ yours? _ but none of them seem right. All of them seem to get stuck in his throat, and he can’t form the words to ask them. He’s not even sure he should. 

After all, if Theo’s never mentioned a kid, then maybe he hasn’t wanted Liam to know. Maybe he hasn’t wanted anyone to know, seeing as how there’s no pictures or anything in his apartment. But then, he thinks to the front door, to the colorful clay dish Theo always tosses his keys into, and it’s like a little light bulb ignites in his brain.

Maybe it’s simply none of his business, despite how close they’ve become.

He shakes the nagging thought off, one hand jutting out to offer Theo his drink. The older man dips his head appreciatively, plucking it from Liam’s iron grip, eyes never leaving his. As though he’s watching the internal struggle closely, the one corner of his mouth looking decidedly amused. “Liam, this is Cam.” The kid waves, bright and happy. He blinks down at the boy, smiling but still very  _ very _ confused. “Nolan’s working on his pediatrician doctorate, so he’s only volunteering at flu shot clinics for kids. I figure you should probably go in there with one.”

“Mhm,” Liam nods, the hum still bundled with nerves. 

Theo snickers. “He’s my nephew.”

He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The smile comes easier this time, and he puts his hands on his knees, leaning forward so he’s eye level with the boy. “Hey, Cam. How old are you?”

“Seven!” He declares proudly, holding up that many fingers. 

Liam’s used to working with kids not that much younger than him, but a couple of his cousins have little ones he’s been around enough. But that doesn’t really settle his nerves, because Theo’s not coming in there with them. Which means he’s trusting Liam with his nephew…and that’s a big deal. 

“You ready to get your flu shot?”

“No,” the boy grumbles, rubbing at his arm. “Needles suck.”

Liam sympathy winces. “I know, right? But they’re super quick.”

“And then ice cream?” Cam says hopefully, looking from Liam back to his uncle. Theo steps forward, leaning all the way down to press their foreheads together. 

“And then ice cream. With sprinkles.”

“Yay!” Cam giggles. He slips out of Theo’s grasp and takes Liam’s hand, looking up at him expectantly as his uncle fumbles in his jacket for his wallet. 

“Here, you’ll need his health card to sign him in.” Liam pockets it, nodding. “I’ll wait for you guys at the coffee shop across the street.”

He lifts his hand in an informal salute, then backtracks down the sidewalk to the lights. Liam feels the boy’s little grip tighten around his fingers, and glances down to see him pull his bottom lip into his mouth nervously. 

So Liam offers him a supportive smile and squeezes his hand. “Hey, thanks for helping me today.”

Cam’s eyes are bright as he looks up, his nose and forehead wrinkling. “Uncle Teddy says I have to. He likes you.”

“He—?” Liam nearly misses the step into the clinic, and stumbles a foot through the door instead of outright tripping. 

_ Don’t,  _ he tells himself.  _ Kid could mean anything. _

He hears Cam giggle behind him, and tries to shake off his embarrassment with a light chuckle. “Uncle Teddy?”

Cam shrugs. “S’what momma calls him.”

Liam’s grin is so big it most certainly makes his cheeks sore as he files away this new information for later use. Later, because the kid doesn’t give him much time to process it, given that he tugs on Liam’s hand and forcefully drags him to the front desk.

There’s a dozen or so other kids in the lobby, some quietly reading or playing games, others chatting animatedly amongst themselves or their parents. One is crying, so Liam makes a note to sit as far away from that one as possible. 

The lady at the front desk smiles warmly at him. “Hello! How can I help you?”

“Flu shot,” Liam says, tapping softly on Cam’s head. The boy giggles, swatting at his hand. Liam pulls the kid’s info from his pocket, handing it over the counter to her. 

She lays it above her keyboard and the  _ clack-clack-clack  _ of the keys resonate as she types in his info. “Cam-den La-hey,” she pronounces slowly as she goes. 

Liam’s head tilts as the name registers, and his brows lower into a frown.  _ Lahey?  _ He mouths the word, thankful she’s not looking up to see his confusion. 

He knows a Lahey. He’d met Isaac a few weeks back, when he’d come home from class and gone over to Theo’s as usual to watch a movie, maybe play some games while they talked about the list. Only Theo hadn’t been alone. 

He’d been on the couch, guitar in hand (fully dressed this time, thank god) and strumming melodies with another guy seated opposite him. 

Isaac Lahey, the other guitarist from his band. 

He’d found out that they did all the band’s writing together, both lyrics and music. That even though they butt heads a lot and tried to outdo one another musically, they were still very good friends. More than friends, Liam now realizes. Maybe they were family. But that didn’t sound right. He was sure Isaac hadn’t been wearing a ring, and he’d left because he had a date with some paramedic he’d met at a bar a few weeks back. Maybe they were divorced? Amicably, obviously, if Theo’s sister could come to band practice and ogle their bassist… 

The questions and possibilities swirl in Liam’s head as they’re directed to sit down and wait to be called. Cam hops up onto the chair next to him, humming a tune as he swings his feet back and forth, perfectly content to just sit. 

It’s not really any of Liam’s business, but… “Hey, Cam?”

The boy’s humming stops, and he blinks up at Liam, eyes inquisitive and patient. “Hm?”

“Do you know an Isaac?”

The kid laughs, a bright and happy sound, his grin stretching ear to ear. “Duh! My uncle Isaac!” His tone is teasing, as if it’s silly that Liam’s even asking him this question. He taps one hand to his head, ruffling his own hair. “It’s where I get these!”

Liam’s breath hitches, just a little. He’s stepping on eggshells, poking into a life he knows he has no right to, but he was never very good at ignoring his curiosity. It’s why he’d always annoyed some of his professors at school, asking so many questions he kept delaying lectures. “From your uncle, not your...dad?”

He regrets the word as soon as it leaves his mouth. Cam’s legs slow to stop, and his smile dims by a few hundred watts. His lower lip disappears between his teeth again, and when he speaks, it’s soft and sort of sad. “I don’t know. Momma and uncle Isaac say I do.” He shrugs, picking at a loose thread on his sweater. “He went to the clouds before I was born.”

The words press against his chest tightly, and Liam can practically feel his ribs cracking and his heart breaking for the little boy. He watches as his small fingers dip into his sweater and pull out a chain. It jingles as Cam holds it up for Liam to see the dog tags attached to the end of it. 

Army, Liam guesses, based on the serial number and rank he can just barely make out. 

His smile is gentle, as is his tone. He reaches over, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Your dad was a hero, huh?”

Cam’s eyes glisten as he nods, his voice small and quiet. “Yeah.” He leans further into Liam’s touch. “He was.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam whispers. “If I made you sad by asking about him.”

The little boy’s shoulders lift into a shrug, and he turns the dog tags over in his hands. “It’s okay. Momma says you have to talk about it.” He licks his lips, adjusting himself in his seat, a little bounce to him. “It’s, um, good for you.”

They settle into companionable silence after that, the boy playing quietly with his dog tags. It isn’t long before his feet go back to swinging, and he hums a little tune under his breath, content once more. Liam keeps his arm on the back of Cam’s chair, soft smile playing at his lips as he watches the boy.

And then, of course, the moment breaks. 

“Camden Lahey!” A voice calls, and Liam looks up towards the source.

Standing in the doorway just past the reception desk is a young man that’s entirely familiar to Liam, despite their years apart. His light brown hair looks as soft as always, bangs artfully fluffed out of his eyes, and his jaw is impossibly chiseled. He’s got a clipboard in hand, and a blue button up on that Liam swears he’s seen before. 

He looks professional and grown up in ways Liam could never have imagined, but still the same, small boy he grew up with. The second he gets to his feet, following Camden as the kid hops off his chair and waves at the man who called his name, Nolan’s blue eyes find him. And widen.

“Holy sh—“ he draws out the _ h,  _ his brain thinking fast enough to stop his mouth in its place. “Shhhhoot!”

Liam resists the urge to snicker, instead mustering up a convincing amount of shock as he ushers Camden over, one hand on the kid’s back. “Nolan Holloway?” He asks as they approach. He’s pretty sure he pulls off incredulous. “Is that you?”

“Liam!” Nolan’s grinning now. “Oh my god! This is crazy. Wha—”

“What are you doing here?” Liam gets there first, barely, and they both let loose a chuckle. Warm and familiar. He sees Nolan’s cheeks darken ever so slightly. “I thought you were in Baltimore?”

“I was, but I’ve got a few months of interning left in my medical degree and figured I’d move back home for it,” Nolan explains. His smile is excited, bursting with joy. “I’m going to be a paediatrician.”

He sounds so proud, so happy that he’s doing something he loves. It warms Liam’s heart and he can’t help but find the other man’s vibrant smile contagious. He’s always had an infectious grin, the kind that brightened a whole room when he let it. “That’s amazing, Nolan.”

“Yeah? Thanks.” The tips of the other man’s ears turn pink. “What about you?”

“History Department at SFU,” Liam beams. “This is my second year as a professor.”

“Awesome!” Now  _ Nolan _ looks proud of  _ him _ , and it sets loose a stream of butterflies in Liam’s stomach. “You were always a good teacher.”

“Thanks,” Liam rubs at the back of his neck, averting his gaze. He thinks Nolan’s flirting with him, but he can’t be sure. He always had a hard time when they were teenagers, too. The drawback of being interested in one of your oldest childhood friends was that sometimes it was hard to tell what was just normal banter and what was flirting.

“But uh,” Nolan speaks up, drawing his eyes back. He looks a little shy, flustered even. 

_ Definitely flirting, then,  _ Liam thinks. 

“What brings you here?”

“Flu shot, obviously.” This time, Liam’s laugh sounds less nervous in his ears, something that relaxes him slightly. He motions with one hand to Camden, and watches as Nolan looks down and spots the kid, as if for the first time. His eyes grow wide, like saucers, and his mouth drops open into an ‘O’ shape.

“Oh my god, right! I’m an idiot,” Nolan gasps. He tucks his clipboard under one arm, leans his hands on his knees, and ends up eye level with Cam. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’re standing here, making you wait.”

“It’s okay,” Cam smiles politely. “But my uncle said I get ice cream after, so if you maybe wanted to hurry a  _ little _ ?”

Liam lets out an ugly snort, biting his lower lip to keep from laughing any harder. Nolan’s blue eyes flicker up to ask Liam for silent help, but all he does is flash his teeth in a grin. He should probably warn the kid he’s being a bit rude, but then Liam remembers who his uncle is, and figures there’s probably no point. 

Besides, he sort of likes the bright shade of red Nolan’s entire face has just turned. “Of course!” His lips pull into an awkward smile. “C’mon back.”

Cam takes Liam’s hand, pulling them both along behind Nolan to the back of the clinic, where three needle stations are set up. Two other kids are back here, a girl with long black curls, and a boy with messy blonde hair, who’s crying. They have a doctor to each, but no parents. Liam wonders if he’s even allowed to be here, but Cam’s grip on his hand is like a vice, so he doesn’t really think he has a choice.

Nolan instructs Cam to take a seat, and he turns his big green eyes on Liam, uncertain and glistening with fear. “It’s okay,” Liam reassures him, nodding. Slowly, as though he’d much rather not, Cam slips his little fingers from Liam’s and pads over to his seat. His forehead is wrinkled, and his lips are pursed as he watches Nolan set up. He doesn’t look sure about any of it.

So Liam offers him a lifeline. “So do you want rocky road, or cookie dough?”

Cam’s face lights up instantly, drawn away from the needle prep and over to the topic of ice cream. He hums, his bottom lip puckering. “What’s your pick?”

“I personally like cookie dough,” Liam tells him. “Because mom never let me lick the spoon as a kid when she was baking cookies, and I feel like I’m making up for it.”

Cam giggles, barely noticing as Nolan dabs at his arm with the little cotton ball. “Can I get a scoop of both?”

“Absolutely,” Liam chuckles. 

“And sprinkles,” Cam reminds him. 

“With sprinkles,” he nods. 

Without looking up, his ex says, “You’ve got a really good uncle there, Camden.”

“I know!” Cam grins, and Liam’s pulse ices instantly. The little boy doesn’t quite seem to catch on that he and the man are talking about different people entirely, just bobbing his head left to right to some tune that must be playing inside of it. Which works out well for Nolan, who manages to line up the flu shot unbothered.

For Liam, however… Well, he can see how one might assume it’s  _ his _ nephew, seeing as how he’s brought him in for his flu shot. But he also knows that could present a problem.

“Man, I know it’s been years but…,” Nolan says quietly, and the only indication he has that he’s done the deed is Camden’s light humming skipping a beat, his head turning to look at his arm in awe. Nolan wipes at it with a cloth, reaching for a pack of bandaids. “Your sister never struck me as the kid type.”

And there’s the problem.

“Yeah, well,” Liam chuckles, watching as three different options are presented to the little boy. Dinosaurs, superheroes, and cats. He picks the latter, and Nolan presses the bandaid into place as Liam tries to figure out how to explain. The words get stuck in his throat, jumbled together. 

How exactly  _ does _ he explain that he came in here with someone else’s kid? Someone that he’s actually never met?

Oh god. This looks  _ incredibly _ bad.

“She, uh,” Liam hesitates. He licks his lips, tasting a variety of excuses on his tongue. None seem right, and his mind races to pick one. Something that appears rather difficult when Nolan’s sitting there, joy glistening in his bright blue eyes. “She met someone.”

His chest tightens a little. Technically not a lie. Just not relevant to this whole kid thing.

“Usually how it happens,” Nolan chuckles. He pulls back, reaching for a cloth to wipe at Cam’s arm with. “And that’s it! All done, kiddo.” 

The kid stares at the spot in awe, looking surprised that it’s over and done with already. He hops off his chair, and grins as Nolan presents him with three bandaid choices. Dinosaurs, superheroes and cats. He picks the latter, and shows it off proudly to Liam the moment he’s done.

“That’s awesome, buddy,” Liam grins. He leans down, putting himself at eye-level. “Would you mind giving me a minute with Nolan?”

“Sure,” Cam shrugs. “The boy at the front lost a puzzle piece. I saw where it went.”

And with that, he steps out into the waiting room. Still in Liam’s line of sight, but thankfully out of earshot. He stands, looking back to his ex and fully prepared to tell him the truth.

“She met someone with a kid, I meant,” he says instead. And then mentally sort of kicks himself a little.

“Ohhhh,” Nolan nods. “That explains it, then. I thought he looked a little older than he should if Lyana had gotten him after I’d left for Baltimore. Unless she’d adopted, anyway.”

“He’s uh, Cam’s seven. It’s real recent.” Liam’s attempt to dilute the lie he’s started weaving with true facts doesn’t help his nerves much. In fact, it worsens them. He doesn’t understand why, but he can’t seem to stop. It’s like verbal diarrhea. “But he’s a great kid! Gets along great with everybody, like he’s been with us for years.”

“He seems like it.” Nolan’s smile is kind, immensely bright. 

Liam feels awful.

So awful, in fact, that he muddles his way through a little bit more small talk, describing his students and discussing the wedding when Nolan finally asks about Mason, having seen the engagement announcement on social media. 

It’s here that Nolan admits he RSVP’d and declined the invitation he’d been sent. Because his final exam was that day, and he’d been told he couldn’t miss it.

As Nolan expresses his regret and disappointment at not being able to go, Liam feels like an idiot. He’d known this. His ex had been one of the first people to RVSP when they’d sent the invitations out a few weeks ago. He’d known full well Nolan wouldn’t be a viable date for the wedding, and yet he’d still come here. Still made a fool of himself by making up a backstory for a kid that had no relation to him. 

It’s a relief when Liam feels small fingers wrap around his own, and a little voice call for him. Like water bursting through a dam, his embarrassment floods his veins and activates his flight response once and for all. 

“Well, it was great to see you!” Liam says, and even to his ears his voice sounds louder than it shoulder. Exaggerated. He’s quick to back pedal towards the door, taking Camden with him, and as he does, he tries not to notice the way Nolan’s face deflates with disappointment. The way his shoulders droop as he waves goodbye, and tells Liam to keep in touch.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t plan to. After all, explaining his way out of the lie he somehow spun himself into, or fell into quite accidentally, would be not only embarrassing but fairly troublesome. And so instead, Liam flees, practically dragging Camden behind him. They stumble out of the clinic in a hurry, Liam muttering to himself about what an idiot he is. 

He can’t believe he blew that.  _ So _ badly, too. As though he’s never spoken to a cute boy in his entire life, or something. 

They cross the street with haste, bustling past the opposing foot traffic and headed straight for the Starbucks. The door nearly bangs into the wall as they blow in, a flurry surely reeking of embarrassment. He doesn’t look forward to telling Theo—he’s absolutely not living this one down. 

The man is question is seated in a corner booth, scrolling through his phone, coffee in hand. Second coffee, Liam notices, since the cup is a different colour than the one he’d given him earlier. The man really does have an unhealthy caffeine habit. 

Liam steels himself, squares his shoulders, and makes his way over. Cam follows, fingers still locked with his. 

“How’d it go?” Theo grins into his cup, gaze flicking up from his phone. His eyes widen as Liam opens his mouth. 

“Well—”

“Liam,” Theo cuts him off immediately, and his tone has completely changed. It’s low, and scared. It sets him on alert, hair on the back of his neck raising. “What the fuck? Where’s my nephew?”

“What?” Liam’s face puckers into a frown, and he lifts the hand attached to Cam. “Right here.”

He looks down, and realizes with absolute horror that Camden is very much  _ not _ the child attached to him. It’s the little blonde boy from the clinic, the one who’d been wailing when they arrived. His face is pinched with discomfort, and he’s looking between the two men apprehensively. 

“Oh my god,” Liam gasps. He leans down, eye-level with the boy. “Who walks out with a complete stranger?”

“Who the hell doesn’t notice he has a different fucking kid?!” 

Theo’s voice cracks, and Liam honestly wishes the man had punched him again. It probably would’ve felt better than the wave of guilt that washes through him in the face of Theo’s panic. 

He’s up and out of the booth in an instant. His coffee tips, spraying all over the ground, but he doesn’t even give it a second glance on his way out the door. Several pairs of eyes turn their way, and Liam’s face burns.

“Sorry!” He shouts behind him as they race out the door after Theo.  

He can’t believe he accidentally kidnapped a child because he’d been such a coward. Theo is  _ definitely _ not letting him live this one down, if he ever speaks to Liam again. 

(He does. After Liam pays for ice cream and Cam gets  _ three _ scoops.)


	6. Chapter 6

**_Two months to wedding._ **

The moment Liam steps into the restaurant, he knows it’s too expensive for him. Too fancy, too high end, and even in his best suit he feels underdressed. 

When Theo had told him Jackson had reached out, he’d been surprised. The man had always been better at commanding attention rather than seeking it out. So Liam has given him a chance. He wasn’t really feeling the ex hunt anymore, but the wedding was fast approaching, and he was running out of options. 

And smack in the middle of exam season, stacks of papers to grade a mile high, Liam felt a night off might not be so bad. A treat, even. At the very least, he’d get excellent eye candy and a free meal out of it. 

He hadn’t expected he’d have to  _ work _ for it. 

Jackson greets him warmly, almost affectionately, with a kiss on the cheek and callused fingers brushing his. That’s the first sign something is off. The man had been a big fan of PDA, sure. Always looking to display whatever relationship he’d been in to anyone who could be jealous. But he’d never been soft like this. 

The second, is that this isn’t quite a restaurant at all. It’s a hall. The kind you throw proms or wedding receptions at. And it’s full of people. 

Some of them are lawyers, mostly from Jackson’s firm, but others are acquaintances. Liam thinks he sees Brett just the once, and he remains glued to Jackson’s side the rest of the night as a result. 

Some of them are political figures, from the Mayor to the Chief of Police. 

Some are big name investors that he’s never heard of, but Jackson clearly has given his winning smile whenever he introduces them. 

Liam does a lot of talking, networking with people so far outside of his social circle, it’s not even funny. A lot of walking around, on Jackson’s arm, thankful he wore the most comfortable dress shoes he had. And a lot of pondering why, exactly, his ex asked him here tonight. 

It’s not until they’re seated for dinner that he figures it out. 

They’re seated with Jackson’s co-workers, most of whom Liam has memorized the names of over the course of the evening, passing them by in the hall and having Jackson whisper facts about them into his ear, real low. A tall, slender older woman (Kali, he’s pretty sure) places her hand on Jackson’s wrist as leans closer to him. 

“We’re so glad you found someone, J,” she whispers, but not nearly quiet enough. Liam catches every word. “We were worried, with the separation…”

“I’m fine,” Jackson huffs. 

“And the kids?” She croons. This one’s not quiet at all, and Liam wonders from the mischievous glint in her dark eyes if she’s doing it on purpose. 

“They’re great,” he hisses, sending the woman a meaningful look that very clearly reads  _ shut up _ . 

“Good, good,” Kali hums, leaning back in her seat. Seemingly content to have disrupted his meal, she digs back into hers with almost vicious precision. 

Liam picks his dinner quietly, not saying a word and not really eating. He listens to the rest of the crowd absently, picking up snippets of conversation here and there, dropping them when they’re not interesting. His mind swirls with possibilities, a little nagging voice outlining all the ways he was used tonight. 

He tries to ignore it. Really, he does. 

But by the time the night winds down and Jackson slips them outside onto the back patio, Liam’s morale is pretty low. He looks up at the city lights, a handful of dim stars visible beyond, and he sighs. 

“Why?” Is the only thing he manages to get out, and it sounds pathetic. Brittle. 

“It’s a really big night for my firm,” Jackson says, and there’s just a hint of remorse behind his words. “And my separation hasn’t been… easy, but I’ve kept it out of the spotlight as much as possible, away from my work. Thea and I are trying to work things out but—”

“So, you’re married.”

“Engaged, actually. Well, maybe. Not sure at this point,” Jackson’s voice is backed by a light, nervous chuckle. “We never really found the time and now…”

“With kids?”

“Mia, and Connor. Both surprises, but the best ones possible.” He sounds happy. Caring. “They’re with Thea in Chicago.”

Liam feels nauseous. He still can’t look at the other man, preferring to imagine a guilty look on his face that he’s not sure he’d find if he turned around. “Why did you ask me here tonight, Jackson?”

“It was pointed out to me that…,” Jackson clears his throat, and Liam can hear a sound that’s remarkably like a shoe scuffing the pavement. “It would be better for my image, and therefore the firm’s, if I had a date. Someone to distract from rumours about Thea.”

His laugh is bitter on his tongue. Stale and acidic. “So you used me.”

“You were always good with people,” Jackson says. He sounds almost sad, and that’s what does it. That’s what snaps the tether on Liam’s patience, and he whirls around, eyes narrowed and anger boiling beneath his skin. His hands ball into fists, and he tries with everything he has to keep his breathing steady, to keep the betrayal from stinging too hard.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t get anything out of it, too!” Jackson holds up a finger, cutting off any argument that he’d started building in his throat. “And I’m not talking about the fancy dinner. You did some great networking tonight with people who’ll be there when you want to move to bigger and better things.”

Liam reels back as if slapped, scowling. “Bigger and better?” He hisses. “I  _ like _ teaching at SFU. I love my students, and I learn just as much from they as they do from me!”

“That’s wholesome, Liam, really.” Jackson rolls his eyes. “And maybe that works for you, but it doesn’t for me. I just figured I could help you while you were helping me.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Liam sighs. His anger is fleeting, fading away and leaving his fingers feeling numb, his voice quieter. “Or you should’ve been upfront about it.”

“Would you have come tonight if I had?” He sounds skeptical, and really, he should be.

Liam shrugs. “Maybe. It would’ve been better than being paraded around and lied to all night.”

Jackson takes a step towards him, reaching out. He pulls back at the last second, fingers barely ghosting past Liam’s arm. He crosses his arms instead, huffing. “Do you want me to apologize?”

Liam lifts a single, questioning brow in response. “Would you mean it?”

His silence is far more deafening than the city noise around them. Liam shakes his head. Somehow, he should’ve known this night would end badly. He should’ve known he’d strike out just like he has with every ex on the list so far. 

But no amount of  _ should’ve known better _ ever  _ really _ makes anything better, so there’s no point in dwelling on it.

“Forget it. I’m going home.”

He stomps past, not bothering to look at Jackson. 

He makes it three feet before he feels a tug on his wrist strong enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m sorry, Liam. At least let me call you a car home.”

* * *

Liam gets home tired, exhausted in his very bones, and beyond cranky. 

This whole ordeal is starting to be more trouble than it’s worth. Well, he thinks it might’ve started a few exes ago, but with some pretty bad strikeouts he’s finally seeing it. And time is running out. There’s only a handful of things left to plan and finalize for the wedding, and before he knows it, the day will be upon him. 

He really should just accept defeat and go stag. 

It’s not like he won’t enjoy himself. He’ll be surrounded by his best friends and loved ones and celebrating two of the most important people in his life. He doesn’t really need a date to do that, does he?

Liam starts mulling over his explanation in his head for Theo as he walks up the steps to their floor. He really hopes the guy won’t harp on him for throwing in the towel. He’s had a shitty enough evening without being made fun of. 

On second thought, avoiding being called a quitter sounds like a good way to end his night. So he doesn’t go to Theo’s door once he reaches the sixth floor, and he doesn’t respond to the other man’s text from thirty minutes ago asking when he’d be home. He goes straight to his apartment, slipping inside as quietly as possible and locking the door behind him. 

Liam sags against the door, sighing. 

His keys scrape loudly against the front table, skittering across the surface and clattering to the floor when Liam overshoots it. He groans, stripping out of his suit jacket and staring at the ceiling, begging whatever’s out there to just cut him a break, just this once. 

“Oh, shit!” He hears Theo hiss from somewhere in his dark apartment. “You’re home early!”

Or not. His luck could continue to be shit, sure. 

“Theo,” Liam sighs. He moves forward, reaching for the light switch. “I’m not really in the mood for company tonight, dude.”

“Wait, don’t turn on the—!” Theo shouts, but Liam’s fingers have already lifted the trigger. The apartment floods with light, and Theo becomes visible in the middle of the living room. He’s standing on the arm of one of the couches, hands busy affixing a framed painting to the wall between both seats. “...lights.”

A painting Liam is very familiar with, considering his own hand put it on the canvas. 

“What are you doing?” Liam frowns.

Theo hops down, waving his arm at the man dramatically. “Turn the lights back off! I have something to show you.”

“That’s probably the worst pick up line yet.” Despite his melancholy tone, he moves to flick off the light, and crosses his arms. 

“Okay, now close your eyes.” Even in the dark, he can tell Theo’s grinning. He sees the flash of teeth, and hears the delight in his voice.

“Theo…”

“Just trust me, okay?”

Liam obliges, too tired to really argue with the man. His eyes slide shut, and he takes a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever Theo’s done to his apartment. 

“Alright… Just a sec…” He hears a faint click, then the shuffling of Theo’s feet across the apartment in the direction of the dining area. Another click, and then the man’s pleased voice. “Okay, you can open them!”

Slowly, he does, and comes face to face with his painting for a second time across the apartment. Only this time, it’s backlight by soft, shining LEDs inside the edges of the frame. Beatrice, he remembers. An army veteran.

His eyes track Theo’s movement across the room, and he sees the man standing beside a second lit painting, hanging in the dining area. This one’s of Seymour himself.

There are others too, Liam notices. Mainly because as he stands there, slack-jawed, he watches Theo press a button on a tiny remote in his hand and other areas of the apartment light up. Sonya’s painting in the kitchen. Dimitri’s by his desk, and Frank and Karen are in his bedroom, above his dresser. Each one adorned with a fancy new frame and build in LED lights. 

“Now, I’m far from an electrician so…,” Theo starts, drawing Liam’s attention back to him. His eyes are alight, glittering with joy under the light of the painting he’s standing next to. “Sometimes, when you turn them all on at once, your bathroom light blows. But I sort of think it’s worth it?’

Liam steps slowly into his apartment, glancing from painting to painting, lips slowly curving upwards into a smile. He feels breathless. He’s always admired his paintings, though not through any sort of vanity, but rather from the stories they bring to mind from his time painting their subjects. But like this… on display, instead of stacked uselessly behind his couch… their aura is almost magical. It’s like he’s seeing them again for the first time, hearing the tales the people he met weaved for him. His heart breaks all over again, for every one of them.

“What…” he whispers, voice not quite with him. “What did you do?”

“I think it really brings out the detail, y’know?” Theo steps closer, following Liam’s careful path into the living room to stand before Beatrice’s painting. The LEDs in the frame light up the artwork beautifully, highlighting colours and brush strokes that Liam’s never noticed before in flat, basic lighting. “Like, I had no idea about the scars you painted on Bee’s throat. And the blue you used for Karen and Dimitri’s eyes is—is amazing, Liam.” 

“ _ This _ is amazing, Theo.” Liam motions to the painting in front of him, turning to stare at the other man, dumbfounded. The look in his eyes is soft and kind as he leans one shoulder against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets. He’s wearing that large yellow hoodie again, the one that looks super comfy.

“Yeah, well,” he half shrugs, corner of his mouth pulling up a little. “You didn’t sound like you were having that great of a night.”

Liam blinks. He’d only texted him a handful of updates after he’d gotten to the party, and none of them had been very long or glowing, but it’s not like he’d been complaining… “I wasn’t,” he says quietly.

There’s sympathy in Theo’s eyes, but something else, too. Something Liam doesn’t quite recognize, at least on Theo. It’s softer, especially around the edges. It’s similar to the look he’d gotten the day he’d introduced Liam to his nephew, but, different. 

Liam spends long enough staring, trying to decipher whatever’s swirling in the depths of green and gold, fully aware he’s gawking like an idiot. His heart’s pounding in his ears, and incessant beat of  _ stop staring, idiot _ but he can’t seem to look away.

Thankfully, Theo does it for him, clearing his throat and turning away. He backtracks to the dining area, throwing a question over his shoulder. “You hungry? I know you probably ate at the thing, but…” 

Liam follows him, now painfully aware of how little he’d eaten at the dinner party when he spots the pizza sitting in the middle of his table and his stomach growls. Theo laughs, a soothing sound that calms his nerves, somewhat. “Nah, I could eat.”

“Good,” Theo breathes a sigh of relief, pulling two beers from the fridge. “Because I don’t know how good this pizza’s gonna be fresh, let alone as leftovers tomorrow.”

As Liam gratefully accepts a beer from him, taking a seat at the table, he looks over the pizza more closely. It’s sort of lopsided, not fully round, and a little burnt in one corner. Also, the toppings look more evenly distributed than he’s used to.

“Did you…,” Liam tilts his head, glancing from the pizza to Theo, who pauses with his beer bottle pressed to his lips. He looks uncertain, almost  _ shy _ . “Did you  _ make _ this?”

Theo takes a huge sip of his beer, setting it beside his plate. “Yeah,” he shrugs. “I uh—I had a lot of time to kill.”

“In my apartment?” Liam raises a brow. There’s a slightly acidic tone seeping into his voice at the thought of  _ why _ Theo has been in his apartment for hours. “Avoiding someone, were you?”

Theo flinches, his forehead wrinkling. He scoffs down the neck of his bottle, muttering so quiet that Liam almost misses it. “Not for awhile. The opposite, actually.” He downs the majority of his beer, and it hits the table a little louder than normal when he sets it down. He sighs, picking up a slice of pizza and decidedly not meeting Liam’s gaze. “So, Jackson was a bust?”

The abrupt change of subject feels sort of like whiplash to Liam, especially given the somewhat cryptic answer. Come to think of it… he hasn’t had to chase anyone from Theo’s apartment in over a month, probably. Maybe even closer to two. The last one he remembers is the girl who’d been naked, actually.

The realization makes him frown, but he puts it aside for now, seeing as how Theo’s looking at him expectantly. Liam serves himself a slice of pizza, takes a sip of his beer, and recounts his evening for the other man. Featuring many expletives and colourful descriptions of not only the stuck up people he’d met, but of the whole conversation with Jackson, too. 

By the time he’s done, they’ve polished off the majority of the pizza, and three beers each. Liam’s feeling stuffed, and lighter in his chest, like a weight has been lifted. Especially since Theo doesn’t mock him in any way for the way his night played out, like he’d expected. Doesn’t once tease him or make a joke about being a date for hire.

If anything, the guy looks pretty pissed about it. His nose is scrunched up, his lips pressed together in a thin line. “Well, you’re better off. He sounds like a real asshole.”

“I mean…,” Liam winces.

The anger lines in Theo’s face smooth out, softening nearly all the way to wounded. He blinks, mouth opening and closing as he tries to form a response. Liam feels instantly bad, and his own mouth opens to apologize.

Theo gets there first. “Alright, alright. I know that I… haven’t been the best about that kind of thing.” He looks uncomfortable, swallowing thickly and rubbing at the back of his neck. “But I’m… trying to do better.”

“Yeah?” Liam downs the last of his beer, raising a brow. “Since when?”

Theo chuckles, standing up from his seat and heading for the fridge. Liam tracks the move with his eyes, watching the way the other man shakes his head. “Pretty recently, I guess. A few weeks. Maybe more.” He clears his throat, popping the caps off the bottles before walking over with them. He holds one out for Liam, grin a little lopsided. Nervous, almost.

He’s slow to reach for it, eyes still locked on Theo’s. There’s that look again, the one he’d had over by Beatrice’s painting earlier. That something…  _ more _ he’s looking at Liam with. Something almost fond.

So Liam shifts his hand slightly, aiming lower than he needs to in order to grab his beer. His fingers brush against Theo’s, warm and soft, an almost startling contrast to the cold, solid bottle beneath. Neither flinch, but the other man certainly lingers longer than he needs to before letting go, wiping moisture off on his shirt. 

He takes a swig of his own beer, licking his lips as he sits down. “So,” Theo says, and the word is tight, forced out between breaths. “About these paintings. There’s a reason I set them up like this.”

“Mhmm,” Liam hums, lifting his beer to his lips. 

“I know you said you didn’t want to display them in a gallery, that you thought it might be unfair considering their origins,” Theo says, and his tone is hesitant. Slow, and careful. He’s testing the waters as he speaks, clearly gauging Liam’s reaction. “But—well—I talked to Seymour.”

Liam’s brows rise all the way into his hairline, and he jerks forward in his seat, nearly choking on beer. He pulls the bottle away from him, letting it hover just above the table as he stares at Theo, eyes wide. “You what?”

“He’s got a couple connections in the art industry through his program,” Theo continues, mostly nonchalant, as though Liam’s not looking at him like he’s grown a second head. “And he’s found a place a few blocks east of the Tenderloin. It’s a decent sized showroom, perfect for the amount of paintings you have, and room for more.”

“Theo…” Liam says softly. 

The other man holds up a hand. “It would be an open partnership with Code Tenderloin. A sort of… fundraiser. He’d split the rent cost with you, and in return some of the proceeds from painting sales and entry fees would go back into the program?”

Liam doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he can. His throat and mouth feel dry, and his palms are clammy. Even the one not wrapped so tightly around a moist beer bottle that his knuckles are turning white. He has so many questions, but not a single one crawls its way up his throat and into existence. There’s a hurricane of feelings in the pit of his stomach, swirling and jostling his nerves. 

“Liam?” Theo asks, and he can hear the uncertainty clear as day. The hesitation and fear. He thinks he’s overstepped. Liam can see it on his face, in the worry lines creasing his forehead.

“He...he can have all of them,” Liam says breathlessly. “The—the money. The proceeds. I’ve never—I don’t want it. I want it to help them. That’s… that’s all I ever wanted for my paintings. I want them to help those people, even just a little.”

Theo’s grin is slow, gradually washing away his unease in a wave of warmth that rises on his face, eventually overtaking his doubt. His smile is bright, and there’s an excited gleam in his eyes. “So you’ll do it?”

The corner of his lips quirk upwards. “Yeah, I'll do it,” Liam nods gently. 

Theo sighs dramatically, leaning back in his seat. “Oh, good. Because I kind of already said yes.”

Liam barks out a laugh, happy and loose in his chest. “Of course you did.”

“Seymour was excited at the idea!” Theo defends himself, standing up and starting to clear the table. “So was I, honestly. You’ve got a lot of talent, Liam. And it’d be a shame not to use it for something good. Y’know, more than you already do.”

The praise brings heat to Liam’s face, something he’s not quite used to. He’s normally pretty good at downplaying Theo’s harmless flirting, brushing it aside and not letting it affect him. But this feels different. This feels genuine, moreso because Theo’s  _ looking  _ at him again, and there’s a strange sort of twist in the pit of his stomach. 

The words come slowly to him, an unsteady wave of thoughts stitched softly together. 

“Thanks, Theo. Tonight was… tonight was really great. The paintings, the gallery project, the kickass homemade pizza…” he motions to every one in turn, leaning sideways in his seat to face the other man. “My day’s been pretty shitty, but you really turned it around for me. And not just today, I think. This was… just what I needed.”

Theo’s face looks a little red, and there’s a lopsided smile on his lips. A soft, sort of goofy one that Liam doesn’t see often. He ducks his head, chuckling. “You wanna know the greatest perk of having a pretty eloquent teacher for a trophy husband?” He asks, and though he’s referencing an old joke, his voice shakes with nerves. 

Liam tilts his head, watching Theo step towards the living room, where his guitar is perched against one arm of the couch. He picks it up, settling onto the cushion with the instrument in his lap. He looks back up, smile and eyes bright. “I always hear song lyrics when you speak.”

And he starts strumming, tapping his foot against the floor to track tempo as he hums under his breath. He gets through a bar or two before his voice joins in for real, and even though Liam recognizes the song almost instantly, it still feels like a punch to the gut to hear the lyrics flow from Theo’s mouth. 

Like he’s hearing them for the first time, and it knocks the breath from his lungs for a few beats. 

“ _ I guess, you're just what I needed _ __   
_ I needed someone to feed _ __   
_ I guess, you're just what I needed _ _   
_ __ I needed someone to bleed.”

His voice echoes off the ceiling, traveling warmly through the whole apartment. Drawn to it like a siren’s call, Liam stands and dances his way over to the living room, throwing in a little air guitar. He feels pretty ridiculous, but one look at Theo’s contagious smile, his eyes following Liam’s every move carefully as he bobs along to the beat he’s strumming, and he finds he doesn’t mind at all. 

“ _ I don't mind you comin' here _ _   
_ _ And wastin' all my time, time.” _

Liam drops into the seat next to him, leaning against the cushion, his gaze locked on Theo’s. There’s the tiniest of skips in the beat, nearly imperceptible, and when he picks back up, his words are softer. Sung at a whisper, almost.  

_ “‘Cause when you're standin' oh so near _ , _   
_ _ I kinda lose my mind, yeah...” _

Theo exhales as he lets the last chord fade slowly, and Liam realizes that they’re sitting close enough he can feel it on his skin. He licks his lips on instinct, and his breath hitches as he notices Theo’s eyes slide down to track the move.

“Hey, Theo?” Liam breathes, both words fragile, like glass. The other man’s green eyes flicker up to meet his, a little wide. Surprised. He hums a light  _ hmm _ in response. “The last few months have been pretty wild, but they’ve been a lot of fun. And that’s been because of you.”

He inhales sharply, sucking the breath in between his teeth. “So I figure, y’know, maybe… if you wanted to, uh… Well, I just think the wedding might be more fun if you were my date.”

Theo’s lips part, his eyes widening, and Liam feels the small exhale of surprise ghost over him. “Yeah?” He wheezes. He sounds like  _ he’s  _ the one who just had the breath knocked out of him by someone else’s singing. 

“Yeah,” Liam says. 

“Okay, yeah,” Theo nods. He licks his lips, and this time it’s Liam that’s drawn to the move, unable to look away. “I’ll go with you.”

Liam feels sort of dizzy, and his voice sounds far away when he says: “Great.” 

“Liam?” His eyes snap up, and he can see the softness in Theo’s gaze. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Liam nods, but the word feels funny. Too short to describe how he feels. He lets out a light chuckle, feeling his cheeks heat. “Might’ve has too many beers though. Sort of light-headed.”

Theo’s answering laugh is rich and warm and all Liam wants to do is wrap himself it in, a safety blanket of positivity. “Wanna go for a walk? Get you some fresh air?”

“God, yes please.”

* * *

It ends up being a little bit more than a walk. 

It’s clear very quickly once they’re out the door that Theo has a destination in mind, that they’re not just walking for the clarity of the late night air. They end up at the nearest BART station, and Liam follows Theo without question into the train. The silence between them is almost deafening, but every time Liam opens his mouth to say something to fill it, no words come out. 

Theo seems to be in the same boat, quiet for possibly the first time in their entire friendship, staring at his hands in his lap. 

They’re seated in a pair of corner seats, and there’s really no need. There were plenty of places to sit, but here, Liam’s tucked against the window, Theo’s thigh pressed warmly against his. 

He feels like he’s on fire, and combined with the constant drum beat in the back of his head that  _ something almost happened _ , Liam thinks he’s going to burst before they get where they’re going. It’s stifling, and his skin itches. He has no idea what to do. 

A handful of stops in, Theo seemingly moves on instinct, up before the Oakland station has even been announced. Liam scrambles to follow, fingers slipping briefly from the post he’d used to haul himself to his feet. He doesn’t miss the hint of a smirk on the other man’s lips, and elbows him on their way out of the train. 

“Theo,” Liam finally huffs, two blocks over. “Where are we  _ going _ ?”

“If I told you, that’d ruin the surprise!” Theo’s laugh bounces off the nearby brick, echoing down the street with them. Liam rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile playing at his lips all the same. 

It’s a block more before large, red lettering spells out Oracle Arena high above them, and Theo’s footsteps gain a little bounce to them. Liam has only been here a handful of times in his life, not much of a fan of indoor sports. He’d gone with his family, or his friends in college, and had enjoyed the company more than the loud, raucous crowd gathered for whatever game they fancied. 

Despite his limited knowledge of the arena, Liam’s sure of one thing: it’s too late for any game to still be on, and therefore the place is definitely not open. He thinks to ask why they’ve come in spite of this, but knows he likely won’t get an answer from the other man. 

So he follows Theo, quick and quiet on his feet, as they hook around the side of the building to what looks like a service exit, or maybe a staff entrance. Liam hears a jingle, and spots Theo pulling his keys out of his pocket. He flips through them, settling on a thick gold one and aiming for the door handle. 

“You have a key?” Liam frowns, confused. 

“Uh, yeah. I worked tech here a few summers ago, copied a key before I left,” Theo grins over his shoulder, and a moment later, he hears the click of the lock sliding away. The other man swings the door wide, holding it open so that Liam can pass through. Beyond is a dimly lit electrical room, the only light coming from the hallway leading out of it. He can see blue and gold stripes on the wall, and tiled gymnasium flooring.

“Are we allowed to be here?” Liam whispers, squinting in the dark as Theo slips past him, leading him down the hallway. 

“Absolutely not. And you don’t have to whisper, dork—no one else is here,” Theo chuckles, stepping up to a wall with a collection of breaker boxes and switches. He aims for the biggest one, hefting it in an upwards arc. Liam hears a loud whirring, and then a click as bright light ignites the doorway down the hall. 

He matches Theo’s pace, no longer timidly trailing behind as they step out into the court, and the sight takes Liam’s breath away for a second time that night.

The higher levels of stands are still dark, blending into the shadows of the rafters, but the overheads that spotlight the court itself are on full blast. Their light floods into the lower sections, illuminating rows upon rows of bright yellow bucket seats. The yellow bleeds from the seats down onto the court, staining the wood beneath both baskets on either side. The rest of the gymnasium floor is pale wood, and right in the centre is the giant navy and gold logo for the Golden State Warriors.

Liam doesn’t care much for basketball, but he knows it’s pretty damn cool to be here. And he knows Corey’s absolutely going to kill him for getting to see this, up close and personal. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, acutely aware that he should probably close his mouth. It’s likely very unattractive. 

“C’mon.” Theo tugs at his wrist, pulling him off the sideline and towards the home team bench. There’s a rack full of basketballs sitting there, and Theo lets go of him to pick one up. He steps further out, dribbling it between both hands, and Liam offers him a look of surprise. Theo simply grins, spinning the ball in one hand. “What, did you think we came all this way just to  _ look _ ?”

“No,” Liam shrugs, lips curving up. “I guess not.”

Theo tilts his neck back and forth, rolling his shoulders. “Ever played H.O.R.S.E?”

He tosses the ball, and it bounces up into Liam’s hands. The shorter man grins, eyes lifting to the net above him. He’s just outside the free throw line, but he bends his knees a little, positions his hands, and goes for it.

It sinks with a satisfying  _ swish _ , never touching backboard or rim.

He looks over at Theo and winks. “Only every summer in high school. Pretty sure Corey was an NBA player in a past life that’s now stuck in a short lacrosse player’s body.”

“Okay,” Theo nods, catching the ball when it bounces his way. He dribbles, walking towards Liam’s position. “I’m impressed.”

He steps to the side to give the other man some space, circling around to the other side of the circle. He watches as Theo mimics the same stance, and tosses the ball. It soars up and over the net, barely brushing the rim. Missing entirely. 

“Shit,” Theo curses, shaking his head. He sighs, and then starts walking away. Confused, Liam stands there with the ball in his hands, watching as the other man takes a seat on the home bench. He undoes his shoelaces and pulls off his sneakers, then looks up. “What? I got an  _ H _ .”

“Yeah…” Liam nods, slowly. “And taking off your shoes relates to this how?”

Theo’s grin is wicked as he stands back up, clapping his hands together. “We’re playing strip H.O.R.S.E, Liam.”

“Uh, what?” He blinks. “That’s… that’s a thing?”

“Clearly your summers weren’t very fun,” Theo tells him, and his smile is downright dangerous as he adds: “But I mean, if you’re too chicken…”

Liam scowls, tightening his grip on the basketball. “I’m not.” He tears his eyes away from Theo’s infuriating grin, and looks up towards the net. “Okay. Backboard.”

He dribbles once, then overhands the ball with both hands. He watches as it bounces with a loud  _ thunk _ and arcs towards the net. It hits the backboard with a satisfying squeak, and drops through the rim.

Theo grabs the rebound, and makes his way over. When he repeats the move, the ball arcs just a little too hard, hitting the top of the backboard and missing the net once more, earning him an  _ O _ and the loss of his socks. 

Anticipation buzzes in Liam’s skin as he gets the ball back, planning his next move. 

He stands beneath the net, arching his back and throwing backwards. When Theo underestimates the distance, hitting the rim instead of the net, he sighs and accepts his  _ R _ . He strips out of his hoodie, and it practically disappears as he tosses it onto one of the seats, making Liam chuckle. At least until he looks back and realizes Theo’s got nothing but a thin, weathered sleeveless shirt on beneath that shows off the muscles in his arms. 

He clears his throat, and spins the ball on one finger as he sets up for his next shot. Liam sits on the floor at the closer end of the free throw circle, legs stretched out before it, and tosses it one-handed into the net. When Theo fails this throw, he loses the shirt entirely, groaning at the ceiling.  _ S. _

“Two more letters and you’re toast,” Liam grins, walking over to the three point line. His voice is full of confidence, but he doesn’t dare look Theo’s way. The man isn’t standing far from him, with his hands on his hips and bare chest on display. Liam knows better than that.

“We’ll see about that.”

Liam throws, and is rewarded with another  _ swish _ . A sound that’s nearly as satisfying as the  _ thump _ of Theo hitting backboard and then rim a few moments later.  _ E. _

He stomps his foot, cursing. “Fuck!”

Liam claps, grin stretching from ear to ear. _This is almost too easy._ _It’s like taking candy from a—_

Theo slips out of his sweats in one fluid motion, pooling them around his feet. As he steps out of them, kicking them towards the bench where the rest of his clothes lay, Liam’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen Theo in little to no clothing exactly three times. 

Twice, naked in the doorway of his apartment, with nothing but a cloth covering his groin. Both times, Liam had done his best to look literally anywhere else, affording the other man the kind of privacy he clearly didn’t think he needed. He hadn’t seen much, vision obscured by his list of exes or his own fingers.

The third time had been all those weeks ago on his couch, wearing boxers and playing guitar next to Liam’s sister. But again, he hadn’t really looked. He’d been quick to excuse himself from the situation, and had seen more of the girl waiting in Theo’s apartment than he had the man she’d been waiting for.

But this time... Well, this time he has no choice but to look. 

No choice but to examine the washboard abs and panes of richly tanned skin.

No distraction from the muscles in his arms and thighs, which move with every step.

Nowhere else to look as Theo walks towards him, his boxer-briefs sitting just below his very prominent hip bones.

_ Fffffuck _ .

He comes to his senses at the last second, ripping his eyes away and bringing them up to meet Theo’s green ones. They sparkle with unspoken mischief in the stadium lights, and Liam shivers when Theo’s fingers brush against his to take the ball. 

“How about we even things up, huh?” Theo smirks. He dribbles away from Liam, towards the net. He speeds up, bounces the ball between his legs to switch hands, and then goes for the lay-up, easily sinking it.

Liam stares, open-mouthed, as Theo catches the ball on its bounce and turns back,  _ winking _ .

His heart sinks into the pit of his stomach as Liam realizes he’s been fucking  _ played _ . “You…”

“Hmm?” Theo raises a brow, the picture of innocence when he’s absolutely anything but, and they both know it. The shit eating grin the fucker’s wearing is enough to confirm that.

“Nothing,” Liam huffs. He rolls his shoulders, catching the ball when Theo tosses it over. He takes a deep breath, gaze locking on the net instead of his infuriating opponent, and tries to focus. He can do this. He can beat Theo at his own game. This is fine.

He takes off, his fancy dress shoes squeaking horribly on the gymnasium floorboards. Dribbling his way there is easy, but when he goes to switch hands between his legs, he finds that he’s restricted by his dress pants and can’t quite manage it. He fumbles the ball, and when he goes for the lay-up, he hits the outer part of the rim and it rebounds right into Theo’s hands.

“Oooh, tough luck.”

_ It’s okay _ , Liam tells himself.  _ It’s just one letter. _

But as he slides out of his shoes, placing them neatly by the home bench, he watches Theo crouch down on the edge of the free throw line, ass nearly touching the ground, and throw backwards, barely looking over his shoulder. It hits the opposite side of the rim and goes in.

When Liam tries this, he can’t get quite as low in his dress pants, and falls over, missing the net entirely. An  _ O _ and the loss of his socks follows.

Then an  _ R _ and his suit jacket when he can’t bounce it off the backboard and around the rim.

Then an  _ S _ and his dress shirt when he fumbles a pass between his hands mid lay-up.

And finally, a humiliating  _ E _ when he’s just not tall enough to dunk it.

As he unbuttons his pants, he scowls at Theo across the free throw circle. “You’re a cheater, you know that?”

“Oh?” Theo raises a brow. He dribbles the ball quietly as he waits. “How so?”

“You pretended to be bad at this to lure me into a false sense of security,” Liam explains, walking back towards the bench and carefully laying his folded pants next to Theo’s pile of discarded clothing. “And then you waited until you were almost fully naked and turned it up a notch when I wasn’t expecting it, so I couldn’t… focus.”

Theo’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Are you saying I’m  _ distracting  _ you, Liam?” He tilts his head coyly. “I thought you weren’t attracted to me?”

“Just because I didn’t want to sleep with you doesn’t mean I can’t see you’re… you,” Liam huffs, motioning to pretty much all of Theo.

The other man laughs, throwing his head back. “Guess you shouldn’t underestimate your opponent, Liam.”

“Oh, I won’t. Not anymore,” he says with determination. He makes his way over, and swipes the ball from Theo’s hands before he has a chance to protest. He dribbles it away, almost back to half court before he turns around. “We’re finishing this one-on-one.”

Theo’s face brightens, clearly excited. “Okay,” he nods, and makes his way over. “Bring it on.”

And he does. They both do. 

For a while, they go back and forth, dodging and side stepping and scoring baskets. Every  _ swish _ resonates in the empty court, and so does every subsequent cheer. Hearts pounding, sweat glistening on their skin, the boys give it everything they’ve got.

But very quickly, the game falls apart. The competitive spirit fades and changes into something else entirely. 

It starts with Theo chasing him all the way to the net, following so close behind him that as Liam goes for the throw, the other man reaches out to block him and his hand skims Liam’s bare hip.

Then, Theo very purposely skids to a stop on Liam’s way to the net, causing the younger man’s arm and shoulder to connect with his chest. When Liam aims a half scowl up at him, Theo’s smile is loose, all teeth, and he  _ swears _ the other man’s green eyes flicker down to his lips for just a split second.

Long enough for him to steal the ball and make off with it.

Liam’s skin is on fire, and there’s something tingling in his toes. Something thrumming in his veins that’s not just adrenaline. Excitement. Anticipation. His heart’s pounding in his ears, and he’s short on breath for more reasons than just the running. 

He takes off after Theo, towards the net, and gets there just as he’s lining up for the shot.

Liam reaches out, fingers connecting with the man’s lower back. His hands ghost over his sides, dancing whisper-quiet across his skin. He feels Theo tense, his arms locked above his head, both on the ball and almost ready to let go. When Liam laughs about the successful interruption, his breath caresses the back of Theo’s neck, and he watches the muscled shoulders before him  _ shudder _ .

And then Theo’s spinning, his movement almost a blur as Liam freezes, realizing just how close they are.

The other man’s arms drop slightly, resting on Liam’s shoulders, and he feels the weight of the ball just behind his head. His elbows fold back, and his hands lift from Theo’s sides to his triceps instead, Liam’s fingers curling around them. 

He resists the urge to shiver, to let his hands tremble in any way.  _ Barely _ .

Theo’s breath is hot against his face when he huffs out a little laugh, and Liam looks up, lips slightly parted, into an endless field of green, blooming with gold. His eyes seem unfocused, and it’s clear as day this time when they lower to Liam’s lips and back.

Of course, Liam does the very same thing a moment later, so he figures they’re even.

Well, sort of.

“You lose,” he whispers. “Didn’t take the shot.”

“Didn’t I?” Theo says, their breath mingling together. The tilt of his head is unmistakable, bringing him ever closer to Liam’s face. He’d only need to lean forward ever so slightly, and he could press their lips together and kiss him. It’d be so easy.

And that’s when Liam realizes he  _ wants _ to. Very badly.

So badly, in fact, that his whole body aches for it. Itches, the urge boiling him alive from the inside out. 

He licks his lips, and moves to take his shot. 

And they both freeze, the loud creak of a metal door painfully obvious as it resonates through the arena.

“Shit,” Liam curses in the same breath as Theo’s “Fuck.”

They leap apart, limbs just narrowly avoiding tangling together as they separate and head for their respective piles of clothing. They pull on pants first, Liam swearing under his breath as he struggles with the button. By the time he gets it, Theo’s got his sweats, shirt and socks on.

And they can hear footsteps, approaching fast. The jingle of keys and the moving light from a flashlight is quick to follow.

“Forget it!” Theo hisses, tossing the yellow hoodie in his hand at Liam. “No time!”

Before he has the chance to lament the loss of an expensive suit jacket and dress shirt, he’s got the hoodie up over his head, and Theo’s dipping down to snatch both their shoes. 

“Let’s go!” He urges, and Liam follows without hesitation.

They take off the way they came, skidding across the court towards the electrical room. They slip out the back and launch into a run, not stopping until they’re at least a block from the Oracle Arena. Heart pounding, breath coming in short, quick bursts, Liam slows his pace and then stops entirely just after Theo around a corner. 

“Holy shit,” he says, chest heaving.

“Yeah,” Theo laughs, eyes bright and hands on his knees. There’s a pair of shoes in each. He grins, handing Liam his, which he gratefully accepts. “I think I’m done walking for the night. Cool if I call us a Lyft home?”

“Absolutely,” Liam pants, leaning against a street lamp as he struggles to put his dress shoes on without socks. His sweaty feet stick to the soles, making it a difficult task. Eventually, he manages, and then stands there, staring up at the sky and breathing slowly, recovering, until their driver arrives.

The car ride home is as quiet as the BART to the arena, but this time, Liam knows why he feels restless. He knows why there’s a little jolt of electricity beneath his skin every time Theo’s knee knocks against his in the backseat. This time, it’s not the mystery of an unknown adventure that’s pounding in his ears alongside his heartbeat, but the anticipation of continuing one.

The excitement of finishing a dance that started at the arena. Or in the apartment earlier tonight. Or, really, weeks ago. When the mission of tracking down his exes became more of a chore and less of a game with a rewarding finish. When he began to enjoy spending time with Theo for the hell of it, rather than to go for a trip down memory lane. When they established a comfortable routine that wasn’t unlike two people whose lives revolved around one another closely. 

The tension is completely palpable by the time they make it back to the apartment, and they take the stairs slowly, carefully. They’re nearing the sixth floor when Liam laughs, shaking his head and causing Theo to look back at him over his shoulder.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Liam says, grinning up at the other man. “You’re a bad influence, you know that?”

“Nah, I’m a catch,” Theo smirks. “How much fun did you have?”

“A lot,” Liam admits, then fishes his keys from his pants pocket. He’s very grateful all his important things like his wallet and phone had been in there and not his suit jacket. He tosses them up to Theo, who makes it to the door and unlocks it ahead of him. 

He waits until they’re safely inside and the door’s closed behind them before adding: “Enough that I didn’t realize until just now that you finally got me naked.”

Theo barks out a laugh, and it echoes off the kitchen cabinets as he heads for the fridge. He pulls out a water bottle, tossing a second at Liam, who catches and uncaps it in one fluid motion. “Yeah, well. Worth it—you look pretty good in my sweater.”

“Good,” Liam grins at him over the bottle. “Because I’m totally keeping it.”

It’s exactly as soft as he imagined it would be. 

“Oh no you’re not,” Theo shakes his head, and steps out of the kitchen into the living room. Liam’s standing in the doorway to his bedroom, plastic crinkling as he downs the water nearly in one go. “I’ve lost enough of those to partners of all shapes and sizes, thanks.”

Liam snorts, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He’s acutely aware of how carefully Theo watches the move, and files that away for later use. “I mean, maybe if you weren’t the hit it and quit it type, you’d lose less clothing to people.”

“Oh, yeah?” Theo asks. He settles his untouched bottle on the coffee table, making his way over to Liam. “I guess it’s probably a good thing I’m changing my ways, huh?”

He crosses the distance in three easy strides, and Liam takes a half step forward to meet him, close enough to feel Theo’s breath on his face again. He looks up, searching the green of Theo’s eyes for answers to all the unasked questions he has. “You mean that?”

“Absolutely,” Theo whispers. All his bravado is gone, his tone gentle and almost fragile as he looks down at Liam carefully. “I’m never been more sure of anything. Except… maybe how much I want that sweater back.”

“Yeah?” Liam’s breathless, forcing the words out. “Well then, you should probably take it.”

Theo’s response is cool fingers at the waistband of Liam’s pants. They slip beneath the sweater, and Liam sucks in a sharp breath as they graze his stomach. “Y—Your hands are cold.”

“Guess we should fix that.” His smile is gentle and all kinds of handsome as he presses his hands to Liam’s skin. They burn, setting the younger man aflame in every place they touch as they rake up his sides and chest. Liam lifts his arms wordlessly, and Theo slips the hoodie off him with an easy, almost practiced grace. As though they’ve been doing this dance for ages, instead of for the very first time. 

The second the hoodie is off, discarded to the floor, Liam pounces. He crashes his mouth against Theo’s, arms looping around the man’s neck to bring him closer, driven by the urgency and fire burning beneath his skin. Theo response is instant. One arm wraps around Liam’s back, and the other lifts to card his fingers through Liam’s hair.

Neither of their hands stay in place for longer than a few moments. They roam, quickly and efficiently discarding items of clothing between kisses. Theo tastes almost like cinnamon, and his lips are warm and soft. His fingers are calloused from years of playing guitar, and it grates against Liam’s skin in all the right ways. 

And then they’re moving, Theo walking him backwards towards the bed when they’re in nothing more than their boxers. He falls back against his mattress, and Theo follows, slotting his leg between Liam’s and pressing kisses to his lips and jawline. 

When he makes it to Liam’s throat, the younger man’s fingers splay out across his chest, putting space between them for a moment. “Wait,” Liam says.

“It’s okay, I’ve got one,” Theo chuckles, moving to continue his mission of covering every visible section of Liam’s skin with his lips.

“No, it’s not that,” Liam taps his other hand against Theo’s hip. “Um. I just. Uh, well.”

Theo freezes, mouth hot against his collarbone. He pulls back, looking down at the other man, held up by the hands sunk into the mattress on either side of Liam’s head. His bangs have fallen into his face, and in the dim light of the bedroom, he can see his green eyes moving back and forth over Liam’s face, searching. 

“Liam,” Theo whispers, tone gentle. Careful. “We can stop, if you want. If it’s too much, too soon.”

“I think so,” he nods, and even as he says the words, he feels bad. His face heats, and he tries to bury it in the pillow he’s laying on. He mumbles into it. “M’sorry.”

“Hey,” Theo says, and the mattress dips as he rolls into the space beside Liam. He props himself up one elbow, and turns Liam to face him with gentle fingers on his chin. “Don’t apologize, Liam. It’s okay to ask for a time out if you’re overwhelmed.”

“Yeah, I—I think I have to slow down, a little bit.”

Theo’s thumb strokes his jawline, and his smile is soft and understanding. “That’s fine. We don’t have to go any further tonight. Or any other night, if you’re not interested.”

“I am!” Liam is quick to nod, leaning forward to press their foreheads together. “I definitely am. I just… it’s been awhile, and I’m just letting my nerves get the better of me, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Theo says, and presses a small, light kiss against Liam’s lips. “It’s cool, okay? I’m fine with it.”

Relief floods through his chest like a tidal wave, crashing against every insecurity and doubt with enough force to obliterate them. As the tide recedes, it brings with it a warm, calming breeze that sweeps through him. Soothing. Serene. 

“Thank you,” he breathes against Theo’s mouth before covering it with his own. He pulls back ever so slightly, staring into a forest of understanding. Of the same, persistent,  _ something else _ Liam’s noticed these last few days when Theo looks at him, that he now sees for fondness. 

“But if you’re okay with it,” Theo says, and there’s heat against his whole body as the other man leans in, “I  _ am _ going to keep kissing you.”

Liam nods, the butterflies in his stomach soaring through him. “More than okay with it.”

“Good,” Theo smiles, and he does just that.


	7. Chapter 7

When Liam wakes the next morning, there’s sunlight streaming in through his bedroom window, and the smell of bacon fresh in the air. As his senses come to him slowly, he realizes he’s lying on top of his bed rather than in it, and he’s in his boxers. 

Also, there’s a pair of gorgeous green eyes at the end of his nose, warm and welcoming. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Theo grins. 

Liam screws his eyes shut, stretching. “Are you watching me sleep, you creep?” He yawns, shoving his face into his pillow to avoid Theo seeing him suck in so much air despite how well rested he feels for the first time in weeks.

“Only for a few seconds,” Theo chuckles. “Came to wake you. Breakfast is ready.”

“You made me food?” Liam mumbles, opening one eye. 

“Bacon, eggs, toast.” The other man sits up and slides to the edge of the bed, shrugging. “Figured we’d keep it simple this morning, but if you’re up for a little adventure at lunch, I’ve got a kick-ass pad thai recipe from my sister I’ve been dying to try. I just need to run to the store and get more eggs, since I used the last of them.”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Liam nods, blinking blearily at the clock on his nightstand.  _ 10:22 AM. _ He finds it weird that his alarm didn’t wake up earlier than that, before remembering that it’s a Saturday.

And then, a single, horrifying thought strikes him.

It’s Saturday.

_ The _ Saturday that he’s supposed to be meeting Mason at the florist to finalize details. 

In twenty-three minutes.

“Fuck!” Liam shouts, flinging himself out of bed. He nearly hip-checks his nightstand, and almost tips over trying to avoid it, if it weren’t for Theo reaching out to steady him.

“Easy there, dude,” Theo laughs. His hands are warm against Liam’s skin. “You okay?”

“No,” Liam whines, darting for his dresser. He opens the top drawer and drags out a fresh pair of boxers and socks. “I have to meet Mason at the florist on Ocean Avenue at ten forty-five.”

“Oh, shit.” Theo sits up straighter, eyes wide and suddenly alert. “Okay, uh. I’ll drive you! It should get you there in time.”

“Really?” Liam glances over his shoulder at him as he disappears into the bathroom to change.

“Of course!” Theo’s voice reaches him easily. “It’s my fault you slept in.”

* * *

To Liam’s utter delight, he makes it with three minutes to spare. 

He drops a quick kiss to Theo’s cheek before bolting from the truck and into the store. The receptionist spots him right away, and her shoulders sag with obvious relief, pointing him in the direction of his best friends. 

They’re gathered around a table in the back of the shop, staring down at two bouquets that look practically identical from where Liam’s standing. His answer doesn’t really change when he makes it to them, either. 

“Glad you could join us,” Corey teases, looking him over. Liam tries very hard not to think about how little time he had to put himself together before he’d left, or about the fact that he’s wearing Theo’s sweater. “Even though you look like a giant banana.”

He tries on his best and brightest smile. “It’s more pineapple coloured, I think.”

“Whatever it is,” Mason starts, eyes narrowed at the thing like it’s offending him just being in his presence. “It’s not yours.”

“It is,” Liam insists. “It’s new.”

His best friend doesn’t look convinced. “It’s definitely not.” He steps closer, and before Liam can even think of moving away from him, he takes a whiff. 

“Dude,” Liam cries, stumbling back a foot and chuckling. “I put deodorant on before I left, I swear.”

“Oh, you did,” Mason nods. “But so did whoever wore that before you got your hands on it. And they’ve got better taste than you do.”

Liam frowns. “Rude.”

“The truth hurts,” Mason shrugs. Corey leans his chin on his fiancé’s shoulder, his grin indicating he’s absolutely loving the verbal cage match his best friends seem to be engaged in. “Now, tell me the truth. Whose sweater? Because Jackson wouldn’t be caught dead in that thing.”

“Jackson?” Corey tilts his head, brown eyes glittering with confusion. “I thought you were looking for Hayden?”

“I was,” Liam admits, stepping around the table and away from both of them. He lowers his gaze to the flower arrangements, examining them instead of the intense scrutiny that’s been directed at him. “But she’s in Puerto Rico. And Jackson’s engaged, sort of.”

He continues, fingers brushing against the leaves of the closest arrangement. “I can probably never look Nolan in the eyes again, Ethan wasn’t serious, Cora’s serious about someone else…,” he trails off, sighing as he looks up at his best friends. “I could continue, but you get the idea. This wasn’t my best plan, and it’s clearly not working out.”

“So… you’re not going to have a date?” Mason asks, and he sounds curious, but not upset. “It’s fine if you don’t, you know. Not everyone in the wedding party does.”

“Tracy, for instance, does not,” Corey smiles. “Maybe you two could—”

“Don’t even  _ think  _ about finishing that sentence, Bryant,” someone says, low and directly behind Liam. He yelps, shoulders shrinking inwards as he nearly jumps out of his skin. He whirls around to see Tracy standing there, smile viciously amused. “Dunbar.”

“Tracy,” he nods, trying to be subtle about the way he’s clutching at his chest.

From the amusement glittering in her eyes, it doesn’t go unnoticed by her. She moves around him, stepping up to lean against the fourth and only vacant side of the table. Her eyes roam over the floral arrangements, then up to Liam.

And then, they widen almost imperceptibly as they take in the hoodie he's wearing.

“New sweater?”

_ Oh no _ . There’s no way he’s going to survive  _ Tracy _ of all people poking at him. He may as well bite the bullet now.

“Sort of,” Liam shrugs, and he watches the way Mason’s brows rise into his hairline as he changes his tune, slightly. “It uh, it actually belongs to my date… for the wedding.”

“Your what now?” Mason asks.

“My date. For your wedding,” Liam repeats, lifting one hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I uh. I asked Theo last night.”

Mason simply blinks, eyes as round as saucers, mouth slightly open as though he intends to say something but can’t quite seem to manage it. Corey’s lips are parted in a wide, excited smile. And Tracy… Tracy looks the most surprised of all, somehow.

“Theo,” she pronounces carefully.

“Yes, that’s his name,” Liam nods. “He’s my neighbor, from across the hall. He’s also my friend, and uh… he’s been helping me look up my exes to try and find a date for the wedding.”

He doesn’t know why he’s telling her all this when she’ll almost certainly use it to make fun of him. She delights in tearing him apart when she has even the slightest hint of an open wound or easy target, and this is… a lot for her to work with.

“Oh, that’s not all he’s been doing,” her eyes rake him up and down, and Liam’s cheeks burn with a fierce blush. Mason and Corey choose that particular moment to tune in, and let out matching gasps.

“Dude, you didn’t!” Mason chastises in the same breath as Corey’s laugh. He elbows his fiance, and frowns at his best friend. “I thought you said you were done with hookups?”

Liam frowns. “I am.” He looks at each of them in turn, and realizes what pieces they’re putting together. “We didn’t sleep together guys, chill. We had a really nice night that… may or may not have been a date, now that I’m thinking about it. And it ended in a makeout session, that’s it. I wasn’t comfortable going any further just yet, and he was cool with that.”

“Yet?” Mason raises a brow, and Liam realizes his error in judgement as his best friend steps closer, scrutinizing him. He lets out another gasp, this time far less scandalized. Gentler, happier. “Holy shit. You like him.”

“Well, I mean…,” Liam shrugs awkwardly, at a loss of words. He hates being in the spotlight, especially with something he’s so unsure of. But as Mason says the words, his brain happily supplies images from last night. 

The awe and gratitude he’d felt, looking at his paintings and hearing about the gallery project.

The familiar warmth of beers and homemade pizza.

The rush of their adventure at the Oracle Arena, and every almost kiss.

The relief when they finally did, and the comfort of falling asleep next to him.

“Yeah,” Liam grins, nodding his head. “Yeah, I do. He’s fun, he’s got a great sense of humour, and he’s good to me. He makes me happy.”

Mason beams at him. “Good, I’m glad. And I can’t wait to meet him at our wedding, and haze the absolute shit out of him.”

Corey snickers, and it makes Liam groan. “Guys…”

“Theo can take it, he’s just as bad as you guys,” Tracy says, and Liam shudders as her voice crawls down his spine. He’d almost forgotten she was there, she’d been so quiet. A fact which is surprising to him, because she hasn’t once made fun of him for being a sap, or an idiot, or any of the normal things she harps on him about.

And then, her words click, and Liam’s gaze slides to her, slowly. Like dragging the dread he’s feeling through a pit of molasses in his stomach. 

“What was that?”

Her smile turns coy. “Pretty sure you heard me, loverboy.”

Liam gawks at her, opening and closing his mouth. On the third try, he actually manages to form words. “You… you know him?”

He’s filled with a single fear about  _ how _ she knows him.

Tracy laughs, crossing her arms. “I’m his bassist.” Her smirk broadens. “He’s mentioned his little friend across the hall at practice before. Quite a few times, actually, as of late. The others have only started making fun of him, but I’ve known for awhile.”

She circles the table, her heels  _ clack-clack-clack- _ ing against the tiled floor of the shop. Her fingers brush against the floral arrangements, but her eyes stay locked to Liam’s. “I swung by his place for sheet music a few weeks ago. All his folders for your exes were in the same box, so it was easy to snoop and put two and two together.” Tracy smiles, and this one actually looks genuinely surprised. “I didn’t think he actually had it in him to win you over.”

Liam’s brows crease together, his fingers curling inwards and digging into the cuffs of his sleeves. “Why not?”

She stops circling, standing straight and looking mildly uncomfortable. “Because of Hayden, obviously.”

The anger fades from his body, replaced instead with confusion. “What?” He blinks. “Why? We never had any luck reaching her. She’s still in Puerto Rico, so…” 

It isn’t often that he gets to see Tracy Stewart looked surprised. So rare, in fact, that he barely realizes what’s happening as her eyes widen and he hears her inhale sharply. She blinks at him, once, twice, three times before speaking, tone hesitant. 

“I gave him her number that day, when I saw the folders,” she says carefully. “She’s been back for over a month. Her and I meet once a week for coffee.”

Liam’s whole world tilts on a vicious axis, and the room swims. “What?” He says, and the word cracks in his throat. Mason’s staring at him, mouth hanging open, but Corey’s looking between the two, concern written clearly on his face.

“Tracy—” Corey starts, and then he yelps as she very obviously steps on his foot with her heel, shooting him a clear look telling him to shut up. Liam feels like he’s missing something.

He feels like he’s missing a lot, honestly. Theo’s had Hayden’s number for weeks? And Tracy’s known just as long that he’s been looking for her, for all of his exes? Why have neither of them said a word? Why didn’t he know they knew each other?

And why does he kind of feel like he’s going to throw up?

“I—I need to go,” he chokes, taking two unsteady steps away from the table. “Now.” 

His friends call after him, but Liam doesn’t hear it.

* * *

Theo’s not home when he gets back. Not in either of their apartments, and Liam’s not sure if he’s relieved, or if that makes things worse. 

It leaves him alone in an empty apartment, full of all kinds of memories. Poring over files at his computer, chasing down leads that never quite went anywhere. Sitting at the dining table, sharing beers and Chinese takeout and sharing jokes. Practically cuddling on the couch watching Marvel movies and eating flavoured popcorn, healing after every bad encounter with an ex. Almost kissing by the mantle where Beatrice’s painting is. Almost kissing on the couch after being serenaded. Leaning up to kiss him in the doorway, and moving further into the bedroom, falling together.

Everywhere he looks, there’s images and feelings that he’s not really equipped to handle on his own. Not when he doesn’t understand what’s going on. 

So Liam does the only thing he can think of to make sense of his jumbled thoughts. 

He strips out of Theo’s sweater, picks up a blank canvas and some paint brushes, and he paints. His brush strokes are angrier than usual, not quite as delicate and precise as he usually is when he’s doing a portrait. 

But then, he’s usually listening to their stories, inspired by the tales he’s been told.

Now his only inspiration are the cracks slowly scattering across the surface of his heart. Every brush stroke or curve is a doubt burrowing further into his chest, festering and boiling. 

By the time Theo shows up around noon, the painting has taken shape. 

“Honey, I’m home!” He says jovially as he lets himself in. Liam doesn’t look up from his canvas, doesn’t say a word as Theo steps into the apartment, spotting him instantly. “So, I brought lunch, but I beg you… don’t judge me. They’re taquitos, but they look like cannolis, and… they kind of taste like egg rolls. Which basically means I’m disgracing my sister by even offering you these.”

“I’ll pass,” Liam says. “I’m not really hungry.”

“That’s cool,” Theo grins, putting the plate in the kitchen before making his way over. “We can heat them up later. Whatcha working on?”

There’s warmth as he leans over Liam’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Liam freezes, mid-brush stroke. “Sorry,” he chuckles, breath ghosting over the shell of Liam’s ear. “That was probably distracting.”

He pulls back, stepping to Liam’s side and placing his hands on his hips as he admires the painting. Liam doesn’t dare look up, doesn’t want to watch the realization hit Theo as he stands there, staring at a painting of himself.

“Holy shit,” Theo breathes. “Liam, is that me? That… looks incredible.”

“Good,” he says, and he can hear the single syllable dripping with acid. “Something to remember me by, y’know?”

“Uh,” Theo sounds confused, and Liam can feel his eyes on him. “What?”

Taking a deep breath, Liam looks up. He knows the moment Theo reads the anger in his face, because his green eyes widen, and he looks taken aback. “A parting gift. You pulled off a pretty impressive con, so it’s only fair you get a reward out of it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Liam?” He sounds angry now, and that’s good. It steels Liam’s nerves, reinforces his decision. 

“I kept wondering why I kept striking out with all of my exes,” Liam laughs, shaking his head as he straightens up on his stool. “I figured, sure, maybe it’s because it was never meant to work out with any of them, hence why it didn’t the first time around. But… so many of them… had someone, or were unavailable. In ways that… you probably would’ve been able to look up, when you were researching them. Jackson. Cora. Nolan.”

Theo’s eyes narrow. “What are you saying?”

He inhales sharply, and it stings in his throat. It stings around his eyes, too. “It felt so strange, like I was repeatedly setting myself up for failure. On purpose.” He snorts, but it doesn’t sound amused in the least. It sounds dark, and hollow, and unhappy. “Or maybe, you were doing that for me.”

“ _ What _ ?” Theo’s tone is incredulous, the word loud and tight around the edges.

“I mean, it makes sense. Whittle down my morale with bad date after bad date, and then, when I was ready to give up, swoop in with the  _ perfect  _ evening to make it all better. To show me that you were… so perfect. That you’d been there all along, but I just hadn’t seen you.”

“Liam… I never…,” Theo takes a visible step back, looking like every word has struck a chord somewhere deep. “Where the fuck is this coming from?”

His voice shakes as he says: “Did you ever hear anything about Hayden? A return date, or maybe a phone number from a friend?” He tilts his head, waiting for the words to sink in. Watching as the realization hits Theo, as he scrambles to process the information and figure out his next move.

Liam doesn’t give him the chance. “I don’t know what game you were playing, Theo, but it’s over. We’re over, whatever we were.”

Theo looks like he’s just gut punched him. “Game? Is that what you think this was to me?”

_ I didn’t think he actually had it in him to win you over. _

“What else could it have been?” Liam scoffs. “Tracy gave you Hayden’s number weeks ago, and you never passed it on to me. When you knew she was the top of the list. When you knew she had the most potential. And instead, you set me up with one burnt bridge after another, and waited to swoop in with the save.”

“Fuck you,” Theo hisses, and now his tone is dangerously low. Liam can see his fists, balled at his sides, shaking. “You have  _ no _ idea what it’s been like, watching you go out on dates while I sat here, waiting around for you. Waiting for you to  _ notice  _ me.”

“A lot of work just to sleep with someone,” Liam points out. Every word out of his mouth is sharp, like shattered glass, and it stings on the way out. “Especially when you had so many others lined up, waiting.”

“That’s just it, Liam, I didn’t!” Theo snaps. “I don’t know how you haven’t fucking noticed, since you were helping me get rid of them, but there hasn’t been anyone else but you for months! All I’ve wanted, for months, is you!”

Liam opens his mouth, scowling, but Theo throws up a hand immediately, cutting him off.

“Don’t you dare say it’s just because I wanted you to sleep with me, Liam, because if that were the case, I wouldn’t have backed off. I wouldn’t have toned down the flirting, and become your friend, first. I wouldn’t have gone to the Tenderloin with you, or organized the gallery with your paintings, because I knew it was something that would make you happy. I wouldn’t have cared for one second about your feelings, but I did—” His voice cracks, and with it, so does the last piece of Liam’s heart.

“Yet you lied to me!” He stands, so abruptly that he knocks his painting stool over, and it clatters loudly to the ground. “You lied to me about Hayden, every time I asked!”

“Because I knew I didn’t stand a fucking chance against her!” Theo yells, and Liam notices then that he’s breathing heavily. Just as heavily as Liam, in fact. “A struggling musician with a reputation as a collector of one night stands? Yeah, I stack up real fucking well against a humanitarian with two peace prizes and an entire charity organization. I was scared to give you her number, because I was scared of losing you.”

“It shouldn’t have mattered,” Liam says. “You should’ve told me the truth, about her and about your feelings. You should have let me decide what I wanted, instead of… instead of…”

“Instead of what, Liam?” Theo snaps, but it doesn’t have as much bite this time. His shoulders drop, and his anger fades away into defeat that sounds almost bitter. “Instead of forcing myself on you? Is that what you wanted to say?”

“No,” Liam whispers, but he doesn’t know  _ what  _ he wanted to say.

“Fine.” Definitely bitter. “You want the truth?”

He turns away, and stalks over to Liam’s desk; to the stack of folders with profiles of his exes. Theo slides three out of his way, and picks up the fourth. He stares at it, his free hand balling into a fist at his side.

And then he tosses it to the floor at Liam’s feet. 

His voice is hollow as he says, eyes empty of anything other than disappointment. “Her number’s on the third page. I hope she makes you happy, Liam. Because that’s all I ever wanted for you.”

And then he stalks out of Liam’s apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

There’s a resounding, hollow noise in Liam’s chest that matches. 


	8. Chapter 8

**_A month and a half to wedding._ **

It takes him two weeks to use the number he finds in Hayden’s file. Every time he tries, and the phone starts to ring, his throat dries up. Words completely leave him, and he doesn’t know where to begin or what to say, so he just doesn’t bother and ends the call.

He doesn’t tell anyone about what happened with Theo, or that he keeps getting cold feet, or whatever the fuck’s happening with him trying to call Hayden. Not Mason, or Corey, or Lyana. And certainly not Tracy, when they finally settle on a place for the bachelor party. She eyes him the whole time they’re at their appointment, looking like she wants to ask him what’s wrong, what happened, but every time she opens her mouth, she looks nauseous and doesn’t bother. 

He’s sure she can just ask Theo, if she really cares. 

He still has the yellow hoodie. It’s on a hanger in the back of his closet, buried where he can barely see it. He wishes it weren’t as bright as the fucking sun, considering there’s no real way  _ not _ to notice it when he goes to grab a jacket or sweater.

He can’t bring himself to walk it across the hall and give it back. He’s so far managed to avoid running into Theo in the hallway, or anywhere else. He doesn’t go up to the roof, checks out the peephole before he leaves his apartment, and never stops by his favourite sandwich shop on First, or the flavoured popcorn store. 

He doesn’t understand why it feels like a piece of his flesh was torn out of him, or like someone  _ died _ or something. He’s had friends come and go over the years, and brief, fleeting romances that have burned bright and faded away just as quickly. Sure, what happened with Theo was a little accelerated, but if anything, that should mean he gets over it faster, right?

Wrong. 

By week two he’s still thinking of him when he finishes teaching a class, forced to take the BART home now that he doesn’t have a ride. He still accidentally makes portions that are too big when he cooks himself dinner, and ends up with leftovers. He still sees a funny shitpost, and goes to send it to Theo before realizing. 

So, deciding enough is fucking enough, he does something about it.

He deletes Theo’s number from his phone. He throws out all his tupperware to encourage him to make single meals. And he makes a habit of going to the gym after class to unwind before walking home. 

And then, he finally calls Hayden. 

She’s delighted to hear his voice, and agrees to go out for dinner the next day. He takes her to a place that’s a little fancy, but not so much that they have to watch their language, or that anyone will look at them funny when she laughs so hard at him for nearly setting himself on fire with somebody else’s flambé that she starts snorting and wheezing. 

The sound brings back so many memories, warm and bright and happy, and just like that, they launch into a two hour conversation about the past, reminiscing. They definitely outstay their welcome at the restaurant when the wait staff start to look at them impatiently, so Liam gets the bill, and they go back to his place. 

They take the long way home, because she hasn’t been in the city in years, and so many things have changed. He walks her along his favourite streets, points out the best cafes and the coolest little shops. He takes her south, detouring the Tenderloin entirely and going through the park, so she can see the stars above the city somewhat. It’s hard, with so many lights and so many buildings high above them. 

When she points out they could probably see them better from his roof, Liam tells her they’re not allowed up there. There’s a memo in the elevator about it. So she settles for the fire escape outside his living room window.

They huddle together on the cold metal steps, looking at the sky and bridging the gap between their lives. 

Her tells her about SFU and his students and how much he enjoys lecture discussions. 

She tells him about her mother’s company, and all the amazing charities she’s worked with. All the places she’s been. 

He expresses regret that he’s never really been anywhere. 

She offers to take him anywhere he wants to go. 

Hayden’s beautiful in the moonlight, her hair curled and sort of silvery under the light, her smile just as bright as he remembers. She giggles as she leans in to kiss him, and he lets her. Her lips are moist, and taste like her strawberry chapstick. She presses them against his mouth, and then his cheek, and she feels like silk, cool and delicate in his hands as he rubs a thumb across her jaw. 

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to feel when she whispers that she’s missed him, and they make plans under the stars before she kisses him goodnight and calls herself a Lyft home, but he’s certain it’s not a weird tightness in the middle of his chest. A quiet, incomplete feeling, as though he hadn’t done everything he was supposed to tonight. Like maybe he missed something.

He figures it’ll go away, that as they start to hang out more, and he takes her around the city to revisit old stomping grounds and memories, it’ll come back to him. The feeling they had, then, as they hang out at the movies, or play games on his couch.  

And it almost does, the night he opens his gallery downtown. They have champagne to celebrate, and he introduces her to Seymour and several of the friendliest faces from the Tenderloin. When he sells two of his paintings within the first hour, and Hayden hugs him and holds him close and tells him how proud of him she is, it almost feels like it did, then. She agrees to be his date to the wedding that night, and he promises to help her pick the perfect dress, just like he did for prom.

But something’s still missing. 

They haven’t kissed since that first night on the fire escape. 

They cuddle when they watch movies and play games, and she sometimes holds his hand when they’re walking around the city, but she never kisses him again. And he never feels an ache to kiss her, burning so deeply in his gut that it’s all consuming. 

And part of him worries about what that means. 

* * *

**_Six hours to wedding._ **

The wedding comes up fast. 

It feels like one minute he’s sitting in front of Mason’s wedding scrapbook, staring a list of phone numbers and business names, and the next, he’s blinked and he’s showered, dressed in semi casual clothing with a tux ready and waiting in a garment bag on his bed, and getting ready for one of the biggest days of his life.

Certainly one of the biggest in Mason and Corey’s, anyway. 

Liam’s eaten breakfast, packed and ready to go in record time, probably faster than he has his whole life, for anything. Lyana teases him about it when he calls to tell her he’s ready, seeing as how she hasn’t even left her place yet. So he putters around his apartment, cleaning up, until she texts him to say she’s outside.

He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he exits his apartment, keys in one hand and tux in the other.

But it sputters out like a drowned flame when he looks across the hall and sees Theo coming out of his apartment, too. The other man freezes when he sees Liam, quietly closing his door behind him without looking. 

His hair is nicely styled, and he’s got a suit on, one that’s a little snug at the shoulders, but absolutely fancy enough for a wedding. 

_ Fuck. There’s no way. _

He wouldn’t think he was still Liam’s date, would he? After everything that happened? There’s no way he’d still think he had to go with him.

“Theo,” Liam says, and the name sounds just as awkward as he feels. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Theo nods his head, a casual greeting that merely applies pressure to the tightness in Liam’s chest. 

“Uh,” Liam starts, and then he feels like an idiot. He chuckles, motioning to Theo’s outfit. “Fancy seeing you here, all… fancy.”

Now he feels like a  _ bigger _ idiot. 

“Yeah, well, weddings are usually pretty… fancy, I guess,” he shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. His shoulders are hunched, and he looks sort of uncomfortable. Still, he manages a half smile. “Today’s the big day, right? Mason and Corey’s wedding?”

“Yeah,” Liam nods, and that very genuine fear that Theo still thinks he’s obligated to accompany him bangs loudly on the inside of his head, begging for release. “What about you? What, uh, what wedding are you going to? Anyone I know?”

His laugh sounds so strained, even to his own ears, that Liam wants to zip himself into his garment bag and never come out. Has he ever been this bad at talking to another human being before? In his life? He’s pretty sure as a toddler he’d have handled this better. 

Theo stares at him a moment, quietly blinking. Then he says, voice sort of melancholy: “Nobody you know.” He gives one slow shake of his head, and starts towards the stairs. 

That should be enough. That should silence the nagging voice in the back of Liam’s mind, the one shouting so many different questions at him it’s hard to keep up. But it doesn’t. After weeks of pushing it away, of ignoring its desperate curiosity to fill the void in his life Theo left behind, it seems Liam simply can’t help himself.

He steps up to the railing, looking over it and down to see Theo one floor below. “How—How are you? How’s the band? Are you… and the guys playing today?”

It’s not the question he wants to ask, and he hates himself for it. 

“Don’t worry about me, Liam,” Theo sighs, voice getting quieter the further he slips away from him. “Have a good time.”

Liam bites at his lower lip, and counts to sixty before he goes down the stairs after him. It’s not like it makes much of a difference. Lyana picks him up at the rear entrance, the one that feeds into the parking lot where Theo parks his truck. It’s easy to assume she’ll see him as she sits there waiting for her brother.

If she does, she doesn’t say a word about it when he gets into her car, and for that, Liam’s grateful. 

* * *

The wedding is beautiful, and goes off without a hitch. 

Mason and Corey’s vows are wonderful and unique and funny, and even though Liam had a hand in the former’s, he still laughs when his best friend promises to never grow a soul patch or a solo mustache. And he tears up, as does pretty much everyone listening, when Corey talks about never blaming Mason for the bad decisions he makes in his dreams, or to not get mad about everything when he’s only really mad about one thing. 

He stands at Mason’s side, filled to the brim with pride, and his hand trembles only a little when he plucks the ring from his pocket to hand it over. He watches Tracy do the same, and wonders, not for the first time this ceremony, why the hell she shoots him a glare from across the arch when no one is looking. 

When they say  _ I do _ and everyone claps as they kiss under a flurry of white petals, Liam holds his breath. He searches through the crowd, but everyone seems to blend together, and he’s unable to settle anywhere in particular. The same thing happens later, when he gives his best man speech, and he recounts the events that brought Mason and Corey together, twice in one lifetime, and now, forever. So he focuses on the happy couple, and he speaks to them directly when he talks about believing in soulmates and about knowing that eventually, everyone finds theirs, even if it takes time to realize it.

After, when the speeches slow, and the music swells, he finds Hayden with mist in her eyes and a soft smile on her lips. They watch in silent awe as Mason and Corey share their first dance, and then, they join the rest of the wedding party and their dates for the next song. 

She looks absolutely stunning in his arms. Her curly hair is pinned up high, and there’s a large, floral clip holding it together that wraps around the back of her head like vines. There’s glitter on her skin, a silvery hue that suits the pale blue of her dress and brings out the light in her eyes. A light that looks a little dimmer than normal. A little sad, as they sway slowly, back and forth.

“You okay, Hayden?” Liam asks, squeezing the hand that’s holding hers. 

She smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Your uh, your speech really got me good.”

“Yeah?” His laugh comes out shaky, nervous, and he doesn’t know why. 

She nods, and she tilts her head to look at him. “The part about reconnections and missed chances, specifically.”

_ Sometimes, you meet your soulmate, and it doesn’t work out. At least, not the first time. Sometimes it takes a second look to see the polish beneath the surface.  _

Liam’s breath hitches, and he swallows thickly. “I know that probably sounds really cheesy,” he says, “but I swear I wrote that speech, like, months ago.”

Which, he did. Word for word, no last minute changes. Except the tear stains when he’d read over last night, one final time. He’s not even sure why it happened, but one minute he’d been rehearsing, loud and clear as he paced around his living room, the next he’d paused to wipe some dust off Beatrice’s frame and then he’d started crying four words in when he resumed reading. 

Hayden chews on her bottom lip, and Liam gets the sense that maybe he should be panicking, or something. Maybe that small, kernel of dread should be spreading through his body, setting him on high alert. 

“It was very touching,” she says, and he sweeps her in an arc across the dance floor. Hayden nods her head towards the happy newlyweds, eyes only for each other in the middle of the room. “And I think that maybe, in another universe, that ends up being us.”

She speaks softly, as though that will lessen the blow of her words. It doesn’t, but it also doesn’t hurt as much as he expects. “I don’t think we end up happy in his one,” Hayden tells him. There’s tears in her eyes, and the hand pressed against his chest is trembling. “Not together, I mean.”

“Did I do something wrong?” He blinks, hating how pathetic the words come out. 

“No, honey, you didn’t,” she says, and Hayden leans in to kiss his cheek. She whispers gently against his ear, and Liam feels a little thrill rumble through his body. “But you’re not my missed connection, and I don’t think I’m yours, no matter how much we might still love each other. And I do still love you. With my whole heart. Those feelings don’t just go away, but they fade and they change. And when I kissed you the night you asked me to dinner, I felt a flicker of that old love, but that was it.”

“Yeah,” Liam breathes, nodding. His cheek rubs against hers, and the hand resting against her hip tightens in the fabric of her dress. “I felt it too. And these last few weeks have been wonderful, seeing you again, but they haven’t been…”

He trails off, unsure of a word that won’t cheapen their time together. Thankfully, Hayden understands. She pulls back, smiling at him. 

“They haven’t quite measured up to your last few months with Theo, have they?” 

Liam feels the truth hit him like a ton of bricks. It knocks the wind from him, and he misses a beat, stepping the wrong way. Hayden pulls him after her, leading and correcting, so the mistake goes relatively unnoticed. 

The revelation that she’s known this whole time about the key detail he left out when he caught her up on his life, however, does not. “How do you know?” He frowns. 

She tilts her head, face patient and kind, which means he should’ve figured it out by now. “Tracy.” The name is soft in her mouth, spoken with gentle grace, and her cheeks dimple with a real smile this time, as though the very mention of the other woman brings her joy. 

_ Her and I meet once a week for coffee.  _

They sway to the beat as the song they’ve been dancing to winds down, and Liam spins them slowly around until he finds her. 

Tracy’s standing by the refreshment table, drink in one hand and scowl firmly in place. If looks could kill, Liam’s pretty sure he’d be boiled alive on the spot right about now. Maybe spontaneously combust, or something viciously creative enough to have come from Tracy.

He thinks about her face, when she’d told him Hayden was in town, and that she’d given Theo the girl’s number. He remembers her surprise that he’d never called or reached out, and her utter… relief that he was expressing interest in Theo instead.

And then, he sees the brief flicker of concern on Corey’s face, him reaching out to try and stop Tracy from telling Liam about Hayden’s return at all. As though she was making a grave mistake, speaking it into existence. As though he knew how angry she’d be if they reconnected, and how hurt Tracy would end up if it went well. 

“Holy shit,” Liam whispers. “Tracy’s in love with you.”

He pulls back enough to see Hayden’s face, and the quiet blush creeping across her cheeks. Distantly, he’s aware of the song changing, so he grabs her hand and guides her off the dance floor to somewhere a little quieter at the edge of the big tent. He can almost  _ feel _ the piercing gaze that follows them.

Liam cradles Hayden’s hands in his, his thumbs brushing her palms. “Why didn’t she say anything?” He frowns. “Why did she… act like she  _ wanted _ us to reconnect?”

“Because when she mentioned you were looking for me, all those weeks ago…,” Hayden shrugs, her tone shy. Uncertain. “I got so excited. You were my first love, and we had so many good memories together. Talking about you with Trace had me feeling nostalgic, I guess. And, well, the only moment I’ve ever regretted in my life is leaving you behind after graduation, Liam.”

But never enough to come back to him, it seems. 

She sighs, and there’s a significant weight to it. “I think… I think Tracy wanted me to be sure. I think she wanted me to see you again, to see if I was still in love with you, before she made a move.”

“At the cost of her own feelings?” Liam frowns. “Tracy’s never been my biggest fan, but I’ve never felt quite so artfully hated as I have the last few weeks. Why would she put herself through that?”

“We’ve been dancing around each other for months, but…,” she trails off almost sadly, and her gaze falls away from him, to her feet. 

“But you’re in love with her too, aren’t you? And you wanted to be sure you were ready for that?” Liam says, and his mouth curves into a smile as the words leave him. As the weight pressing against his lungs and chest, the uncertainty and the doubt nagging at him the last few weeks with Hayden, lifts away from him and he can breathe again. 

He hasn’t seen Hayden this shy in years, as she pulls one hand from his grasp to tuck a loose curl back behind her ear. The tips of her ears are pink, matching the blush dusting her cheeks. Liam has always loved the way a blush coloured her face. “When I left, after graduation, I didn’t really keep in touch with anyone. I was heartbroken over you, and Mason and Corey’s messages went unread because of that. I’m pretty I’ve been dead to Violet and Garrett since, and Josh… well, we were never that close to begin with. I lost all of you, and I know that’s on me. But Tracy…” There’s a light in Hayden’s eyes, and fondness in them that weaves through the gentle tone of her voice, and the curve of her lips.

“Tracy didn’t let me go. She made sure we kept contact, and if I fell too far off the grid, she brought me back. She’s been there through every humanitarian project, every crazy big move from one country to the next, every step I’ve taken from the moment I left Beacon Hills.” Hayden’s hands move from his, twining their fingers together and squeezing tight. “And in turn I’ve watched her grow from bitter, mean girl into a kind, compassionate person. Someone who flourishes most when she’s helping kids, troubled youths like her and Josh were. She’s my best friend, and I’m so grateful to her for always being there for me, for looking after me over the years.”

Liam reaches up, cupping her face and wiping at the tear rolling down her right cheek. “And she’s your soulmate.”

Hayden laughs, and the sound is a little wet, but still bright and happy. She nods, her hands coming to rest over his. “She is.”

Liam’s eyes drift up, over Hayden’s head and he smiles. “Then you should tell her that.”

Hayden looks up, eyes wide. She realizes he’s not looking at her anymore and slowly, carefully, she turns to see Tracy standing barely three feet away. The champagne glass she’d been holding earlier is gone, and though her arms are crossed tightly over her chest and she’s looking down her nose at them, she looks more vulnerable than Liam’s ever seen her before. 

“Trace,” Hayden whispers. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough,” the other woman shrugs, swallowing thickly. “But I’d rather hear it again from you directly, if that’s what you want.”

Hayden shudders out a breath, the curve to her lips nervous, but happy. Hopeful. But still, she glances at Liam, and he can see the guilt just beneath the surface. Swirling in the brown of her eyes, and the worried line of her brow.

He leans forward, presses a kiss to her wrinkled forehead, and says, “You deserve happiness, Hayden, so don’t be afraid to chase it.”

And with that, he leaves them be, with tears glistening in their eyes, and whispered declarations of love on their tongues. Liam heads back towards the crowd of happy, celebrating wedding guests feeling lighter than before.

“Hey, Dunbar!”

He pauses, throwing a cautious look over his shoulder. Tracy’s got an arm around Hayden’s shoulders, and for what might be the first time ever, she’s got a genuinely happy smile on her lips. Dare he say,  _ gleeful _ . 

“Listen to your advice once in awhile, yeah?” She tilts her head. He doesn’t need to ask to know what Tracy’s talking about. He nods, holds up a hand in thanks, and makes his way back to his table slowly, making a pitstop at the bar to grab a beer.

Liam sinks into his seat, shoulders sagging with a weary sigh that sounds years older than it should. He sits and sips his beer, content to watch the other guests dance and twirl along to the beat, happy and carefree. Garrett’s apparently picked up Josh’s date, and the latter is standing on the sidelines, brooding as he watches the other man dip her mid-dance. Mason’s parents dance close together, little Naomi spinning between them. He thinks his own parents are around somewhere, but he lost track of them awhile back, and knows how his mother likes to socialize. Corey’s dad is manning the bar, enthusiastically making drinks for anyone that approaches, and Liam spots Lyana once or twice, smiling and hearts in her eyes as she dances with her date. Which she  _ still _ hasn’t introduced him to, like the absolutely awful sibling she is. 

He doesn’t, however, see Mason and Corey themselves. The newlyweds are missing in action on the dancefloor, which is curious considering the night’s only just begun. He remembers there being something about venue photos in the booklet, so he wonders if maybe they’re off doing that. 

“Looking pretty lonely over here, dude,” Corey’s voice flutters to his ears, gently teasing, and he turns to see them both approach, hand in hand. 

“Can’t believe your dramatic telenovela love life continues, unhindered by our wedding day,” Mason laughs, and the sound is soothing to Liam’s ears. Not the least bit offensive, but almost impressed. 

Corey glances off down the hill, outside the tent, where Hayden and Tracy are holding hands, talking and standing so close together their noses are practically touching. “Sorry, dude. I tried to avoid this whole mess weeks ago, but you know how Tracy  _ loves  _ to listen to other people.”

Translation: she doesn’t. In fact, it typically encourages her to do the exact opposite thing. Liam would know, it’s one of the only things they have in common. 

“It’s okay,” Liam smiles up at them, and he means it. “What’s life without a few lessons, right?”

“Pointless, if you don’t actually  _ listen _ to them,” Mason quips, and Liam frowns at him. 

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head, staring up at his best friend.

Mason motions to him with his free hand. “You’re just sitting around here moping. You heard the girl. Take your own advice. Chase happiness, Liam. We all know where you’re going to find it.”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t start, Mase.”

“Don’t you give me that,” Mason huffs. “You’ve spent the last several months tracking down all your exes on some ridiculous campaign for happiness, but do you know when you’ve looked happiest to me, Liam? Do you know when I’ve looked at my best friend, and thought to myself, ‘man, he’s finally done it. He’s found his person, and one day, I’m going to get to give a cheesy speech about soulmates in front of a crowd of friends and family.’”

Liam’s shoulders droop, and he frowns. “My speech wasn’t lame…”

Mason ignores him, ploughing on. “When you came into the florist the other week, wearing that… school bus for a sweater. You had this peaceful look on your face, and it was like you were… floating. And then you told us Theo was your date, and there was this moment, before Tracy opened her mouth and ruined it… where I could see it in my head. Where I could see you, standing up there with him, saying I do.”

Liam’s nose scrunches, and he rubs at his arm. “You’ve got weird daydreams, dude.”

“Liam,” Mason’s tone isn’t playing anymore. “He fucked up, okay? And he knows that, and he’s been paying for it. Tracy says he hasn’t strummed a single chord in tune in fucking weeks.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Liam asks, lifting his arms in a shrug. “Be the worst best friend in existence and bail on your wedding to go confess my feelings to an idiot?”

“Why not?” Corey says, and both of them look at him, eyes wide. He laughs, leaning against Mason’s arm affectionately. “This is our day, Liam. We’re happy. We just want you to be happy, too.”

Mason nods, smiling fondly at his husband. Liam, in contrast, groans and rolls his eyes affectionately. “That’s great guys, really. But how exactly am I supposed to do that?” He looks between them, brow raised. “Even if I knew what I wanted to say—which I don’t—there’s no way I’d find him today.  Do you  _ know _ how many weddings there are in San Fran today?”

There’s a pause where the newlyweds look at one another, and Liam snorts. “Twelve. I asked.” He ignores the burn of shame knowing he asked their wedding planner shortly after getting here this morning, before he’d figured any of this out. He’d just… wanted to know. “Am I supposed to go to twelve other weddings and try and find one man?”

“Nope, just one!” a new but not unfamiliar voice says, sounding fairly pleased with herself. Liam glances right, to the other side of his table, where his sister approaches, arm in arm with a pretty redhead. “Liam, I know I’ve sort of put it off all day, but that’s about to make this so much sweeter, I promise you.”

He frowns. “What?” The word squeaks a little, packed with confusion.

“Little brother, I’d like you to officially meet my girlfriend, Tara,” Lyana smiles, and her chin lifts a little, the same way it does whenever she knows a secret he doesn’t. It made surprises very underwhelming as a child.

“Uh,” he holds out his hand to her, still clearly missing the point. “Nice to meet you?”

“The pleasure’s all mine, honestly,” Tara giggles, shaking his hand. Her smile is bright and mischievous as it dances across the green of her eyes, and just a little bit familiar to him. “It’s nice to finally meet the guy my brother’s head over heels for.”

A record scratches in Liam’s brain, and in slow motion, it rewinds this conversation for him. Just a few paces back, dissecting the words and taking them apart one by one for him to go over. Lyana had called her Tara. 

Like… Tara Raeken, Theo’s sister. Or Lahey, he supposes.

He looks at the green of her eyes, and he sees Theo. He sees the freckles peppering her face, and he sees Cam. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes, as everything clicks into place. “You… you…”

“I’m Theo’s sister, yes,” Tara smiles. 

“And you—you’ve known about this? This whole time??” He turns on his own sibling, voice pitching higher. Lyana barks out a laugh, leaning against Tara’s arm and shaking her head. 

“I didn’t know they were related the day I met him in your apartment, if that’s what you’re asking,” Lyana says. “Tara and I didn’t put it together until a few weeks later.”

“The day my brother came back from taking my son to get his flu shot,” Tara says, tapping on her chin thoughtfully, as though trying to recall a fond memory. “He sat down for six beers and some very enthusiastic complaining about the idiot he’d fallen in love with. Some moron who lost my child at the clinic, I believe?”

“Which was  _ so _ weird,” Lyana adds, snickering.  “Because my little brother had called earlier that day to ask if walking out of a flu shot clinic with the wrong kid constituted as kidnapping.”

Liam’s face heats instantly with whitehot shame. To his left, he hears Corey snicker, and then a grunt as Mason elbows him into silence. “Oh my god,” Liam buries his face in his hands, hiding from Tara’s gaze. “I’m so sorry.”

He feels a gentle touch on his arm, and looks up to see Tara’s come around the table, fingers prying his hands away from his face. Her smile is patient and kind. “It’s okay, Liam. I was mad at first, but Cam couldn’t stop talking about how funny it had been to trick his uncle’s boyfriend into buying him three scoops of ice cream that it didn’t seem so bad, in the end.”

“His uncle’s…,” Liam trails off, blinking. He remembers what Cam had said that day, about Theo liking him. And then Tara’s own words, just a few seconds ago, finally hit him full force and he almost does a double take, staring up at her. “Wait, did you say… he’s been in love with me since then?”

Tara shrugs. “Since before that, I’d say. I probably could’ve pointed it out to him sooner, helped you two idiots pull your heads out of your asses.” Beside her, Lyana snorts. “But I wanted my brother to grow up and figure something out for himself, for once. And, well, I was mad about the kid thing.”

“And now?” Liam asks, tone hopeful.

“Now… I think you two deserve some happiness.” There’s a jingle, and Liam watches with profound joy as she pulls a set of keys from her little purse. “So, need a ride?”

* * *

The drive across town to the wedding Theo’s performing at is the single worst car ride of Liam’s life. He’s anxious beyond belief, worry crawling around under his skin. He’s tucked into the back between a car seat and a stack of pastry boxes. Lyana’s got her feet up on the dashboard, and she’s holding Tara’s hand on the console between them. They’re both humming along softly to a song on the radio, and it’s soothing, somewhat. 

Probably the only thing keeping him at least a little calm. 

“Know what you’re going to say?” Lyana asks over the edge of her seat.

“No fucking clue,” Liam chuckles. “Sorry I’m an idiot and… I’ve sort of just realized I love you?”

Lyana laughs, loud and raucous. “Well, that’s lame.” The fingers of her right hand tap on the passenger window, and Liam feels the car slow to a stop. “Looks like you better figure out that epic speech quickly, Li. We’re here.”

He sits up straight in his seat, looking out the windshield. There’s a large sign for Shakespeare Garden in front of them, one of the prettiest parks in the city and a popular wedding location that fits hundreds. “Oh, God.”

“C’mon,” Tara says, getting out of the car. “And bring those pastry boxes with you!”

Liam scrambles out of the vehicle, balancing the three stacked boxes carefully in his hands. Lyana rolls down her window to watch him over the rim of her sunglasses, smirking. 

“What are these for?” Liam frowns. 

“For the wedding, of course,” Tara smiles brightly at him, tone chipper. “My bakery is the dessert catering company. That’s how my brother got this gig.”

Liam’s jaw goes slack, and he stares at her, blinking stupidly. 

She licks her lips, flashing her teeth as her smile widens with amusement. “You didn’t think we were just walking into this wedding, did you?” Tara tilts her head at him, giggling. “Party crashing isn’t polite, Liam.”

And with that, she starts off towards the gate. Liam glances down at his sister for help, and she slides her sunglasses low on her nose so he can see her eyes. “Have fun, kiddo.”

And so, feeling entirely out of his depth for  _ multiple _ reasons, Liam follows Theo’s sister into the park. The place is beautifully decorated, with fairy lights hanging from the trees and rose petals scattered across the ground. There’s folding chairs on the lawn, and pink and white streamers rise up and meet at the summit of a pole in the middle of the dance floor.

It all looks like a fairy tale.

And there, beyond the crowd of happily dancing people, is the stage. 

He can hear the song they’re playing, and he sees who he assumes is Erica at the mic. He can’t quite see Boyd behind the drums, and from this distance, it’s hard to tell what side of the stage Theo and Isaac are each playing on. He knows they’re down a bassist, considering Tracy’s at the wedding he just left. 

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Tara whispers in his ear, tugging at his sleeve. She guides him towards the crowd, and off to the side, where the dessert table sits. Carefully, she takes one box from him and opens it, slowly removing the pastries inside and refilling the nearly empty tray on the table with them. As Liam watches her work, he shoots furtive glances at the stage.

Now that they’re closer to it, he can easily see Theo playing on this half, deeply concentrating as he strums out a semi familiar tune. Erica croons into the mic, and the rest of the band play their heart out. The guests seem to be loving it, and it fills Liam with a pride he isn’t sure he has the right to experience, seeing so many people cheering them on as the song comes to a close.

“Yeah, alright Theo!” Tara shouts, and Liam startles and almost drops the last box as he glances right to see her clapping. She’s surprisingly loud for such a small lady, and Liam gawks, eyes wide, as Theo picks up on the sound of her voice. His shoulders straighten, and he squints out into the crown.

And then he turns.

Their eyes meet across the distance, Theo’s widening in obvious shock. It pins Liam in his place, and for a moment, he can’t move. He can barely breathe, the pressure of everything unsaid (and all the things he  _ did _ say, in the moment) filling his lungs. 

_ What are you doing here? _ Theo mouths as Erica thanks the crowd, taking a moment to cool off with a water bottle. 

“We need to talk,” Liam says back, though not nearly loud enough for the other man to hear him. He sees Theo’s eyes narrow, and his head gives a little shake before nodding in the direction of his band mates. 

“Oh for the love of god,” Tara sighs. “Liam, empty the rest of that box, please.  _ Carefully _ .”

And she stalks off towards the stage before he can stop her. Liam watches in horror as she waves up at her brother, and for a moment, he thinks she’s headed for him. But then she brushes past him, and even he’s left frowning as she approaches the front of the stage. 

Erica’s face lights up as she sees her, and the blonde ducks down, reaching over the edge to offer her a hug. He watches as the two woman exchange a few words, and then Erica pops back up to the mic, smile bright. “Okay everybody, we’re gonna slow things down a little bit. So if the brides could please make their way over to the front, we’d like to play them a song that’s… fairly special to us, if it’s alright with them.”

Erica glances left, towards Theo, who stands a little bit straighter than before. There’s panic in his eyes, and a tight smile on his lips. “Our very own Theo wrote it, and normally he sings, but he’s got a little bit of a throat cold, so Isaac and I are going to handle it for him.”

Liam watches as Theo frowns, talking into his mic, but nothing comes out on the speakers. Which is roughly when he sees Boyd isn’t behind his drum kit anymore, but rather next to all their electrical hookups, and he’s got the plug for Theo’s mic in his hand.

Theo gets the message from his band mates loud and clear, and with a bright, fake smile and a little wave to the crowd, he gets offstage. Every step down the stairs and towards Liam feels like an eternity, a beat shared with his very loud heart in his ears.

So much that the air is stifling when Theo makes it to him, just as bright, twinkling piano keys sound through the speakers, accompanied by a soft male voice. Liam doesn’t dare look away now that Theo’s here, in front of him, and there’s so much to say—but he imagines if he did, he might see Isaac sitting in front of a mic, and Erica next to him with a keyboard. 

_ It feels like I’m up on a wire, _ __  
_ And you just keep lifting it higher, _ __  
Liam feels every word resonate in his chest. “Hi,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck. 

“Hey,” Theo breathes, just as unsteady. His lips are pursed, and there’s a wrinkle in his brow. “What are you doing here?”

_ I’m right on the edge, _ _  
_ _ And I’m doing my best not to fall. _

“Oh, I was just… y’know, in the area,” Liam’s attempt at humour is flat, and painfully obvious. He winces. “Your sister brought me here to talk to you.”

Theo swallows thickly. “I wondered if you might finally meet her today,” he says, and he sounds a little annoyed. “She told me this morning you were going to the same wedding.”

_ It feels like the world’s spinning faster, _ _  
_ _ Towards a beautiful perfect disaster. _

“Yeah,” Liam chuckles. “She’s uh—she’s dating my sister?” 

“Weird, right?” He gets a hint of a smile out of the other man, at least.

_ The moment you kissed me, _ _  
_ _ I knew I was risking it all. _

Liam’s breath hitches, and he clenches and unclenches one hand at his side. There’s so much he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how. “It’s probably a good thing,” he says, clearing his throat. “Otherwise I would’ve had to drive around the city to eleven other weddings looking for you.”

He sees the little intake of breath as Theo goes to speak, then the droop of his shoulders as he reconsiders. It happens again, and then he asks: “Why?”

_ The further I run from you baby, _ __  
_ The closer I get to the truth, _ _  
_ __ And I feel like nothing can save me.

“Because I let Hayden go today.” The words are thick in his throat, threatening to choke him before he gets them all out. “So that she could be happy with someone else. Someone who wasn’t me.”

Something darkens Theo’s eyes, and his lips press together tightly. 

“And I did that,” Liam articulates slowly, “because  _ I _ wanted to be happy. With someone else. Someone who wasn’t her.”

_ It’s something I just can’t undo, _ _  
_ _ Cause I can’t not love you. _

“Theo, when I thanked you the other night and I told you that you’ve made the last few months of my life worth it, I meant it. I meant every word,” His heart’s pounding so loudly in his ears, he can barely hear the words coming out of his mouth, so he really hopes they’re the right ones. “You’ve made me laugh so hard I’ve cried, and snorted beer out my nose the once. You’ve made me content with my life, the way it is, and made me realize I don’t have to change myself or be something I’m not to be happy. Because you make me happy, Theo.”

_ I’m bracing myself for collision, _ _  
_ _ In the back seat of my heart’s decision. _

“And I know I said a lot of things the other night,” Liam continues. “A lot of selfish, mean things, because I was hurting. I was upset, and I didn’t see… I didn’t realize that I was perfectly happy already. That I didn’t need anything more than what I had. And it doing that, I hurt you. I pushed you away.”

_ I’m rounding the curb, _ _  
_ _ And I don’t have the nerve to say no. _

“And I’m sorry for that,” Liam breathes. His hands are trembling, fingers shaking so badly he can hardly stand it. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Because that’s something I never want to do—hurt the people that I—I love.” 

Theo inhales sharply, sucking a breath in between his teeth. His eyes widen, and his hard exterior softens ever so slightly. 

“Do you… do you mean that?” Theo says, and he sounds like there’s barely enough air in his lungs to say it. He sounds so fragile, so uncertain, and Liam’s heart breaks all over again for doing this to him. 

“Every word,” he nods, more sure of himself this time. “I love you, Theo. And I’m sorry that it took me so long to realize it. But if you’ll have me… I’d like to spend a very long time making sure you never forget it.”

His chest is heaving, like he’s run a marathon. His palms are sweaty, a fact he’s acutely aware of as he feels Theo’s callused thumbs rub against them. As Theo takes Liam’s hands in his, and lifts them all the way up to his face, placing them gently on Theo’s neck. His skin is warm beneath Liam’s fingers, almost searing, and his trembling hands steady almost instantly.

“I love you too, Liam,” Theo whispers. There’s a warm hand against his neck, and then he’s drifting closer to Theo, eyes trained on his lips. “So I’m happy to start now.”

Liam laughs, bright and full of joy as he crashes his mouth to Theo’s.


End file.
